The Long Way Home
by Humphrey66th
Summary: A young boy witnesses the arrival of explorers from a place called Atlantis. His curiosity ends up taking him places he only ever dreamed about. But dreams can be nightmares, and he ends up far, far from home.
1. Chapter 1

**The Long Way Home**

A Stargate story by Humphrey66th

Bale understood the value of observance. His home village was primitive enough to figure out that all people who visited from beyond the horizon weren't always friendly, or filled with goodwill. Even those from the incredible city of Pell.

The village elders taught them about their world, a place called Ariannia, and that there were other worlds similar, and very, very different to their own. Bale would ask question after question during these lessons, trying to glean every bit of information from the elders about what these other places were like. The elders, particularly Mephis, would always end the questioning with promises of answers later, trying exhaustively to quell the young boys fervor. But this never put the issue to rest, and Bale would always try and corner them for more later on. During this years harvest though some visitors came that no one had met before. They arrived after mid day, dressed in clothing that was odd. Dark colours and vests with many pockets, all with packs on their shoulders, they carried strange devices which Bale, and some of the other children presumed were weapons of some kind. Of the four visitors, he heard Mephis talk to their leader, a Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Mephis had led the four visitors into the long house, which served as a meeting hall, festival hall, and other such generic functions as was want. Luckily for Bale it was also where his Mother worked cleaning and sewing with the other ladies of the village, to which he used this excuse to gain entry.

He greeted his Mother and some of the other village women, and took a spot off to one side of the large table at which the elders and the visitors sat. Sheppard had introduced his party to the elders Mephis and Treely, as Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan, and Ronon Dex, who by Bales estimation was the biggest man he'd ever seen.

"So tell me sir. From where do you hale?" Asked Treely, the oldest of the elders, easily marked by his hunched back from years of working in the mines.

"Well sir," began Sheppard, "we're from a place called Atlantis, which is pretty far from here."

"I would say you came through the gateway." said Mephis. "I wouldn't be remiss in assuming that now would I?" Sheppard looked a little uncomfortable, but nodded in affirmation.

"No sir you would not. We're explorers looking to find... friends... allies, and trading partners."

"Yes, allies mostly." chimed in the one called McKay. "Especially ones who don't have stone age technology." Sheppard smiled, somewhat annoyed with McKays statement. Bale sat in the shadows near the wall enthralled.

"Technology would be nice Rodney, but I think we need more than that." rebutted Sheppard. McKay started to speak, but the woman named Teyla cut him off.

"You see, we're looking to barter trade for food, tools and such. It has been a while since we've met new people, what with the war going on." Bale sat up, straining to hear.

"What war?" asked Mephis.

"Well surely you must have heard that the wraith are on the move." said Teyla leaning in. "They have destroyed many worlds thus far."

"We have heard of no such thing. Neither have we heard tell of a 'wraith'." Mephis leaned back in his chair, and stroked the stubble on his chin, considering the claims of the strangers. Teyla nodded and smiled, giving a sidelong look to Sheppard as she sat up.

"Consider yourselves lucky." rumbled Ronon, his arms crossed across his massive torso. Mephis looked to Treely, who smiled and nodded.

"We know naught of these things, but we will be happy to trade depending on our mutual needs." Bale listened to the entire conversation over the next while, as boring as it did seem. The visitors were very polite, especially Teyla, and not so much McKay who at one point claimed he would likely expire if he didn't get a snack. Some of the ladies brought a small meal which they continued to talk over. The elders negotiated for materials to create new wells for irrigation of the village fields. Sheppard did them one better, and told them he could have some engineers build, and furnish the wells in exchange for some food stuffs: meats, vegetables, maybe some spices if they could spare them. The quantities were haggled over for a long time but eventually an agreement was made. Treely had made a final offer of shelter and another meal for the night, as the sun was closing out the day. Sheppard kindly refused, saying he had to return to Atlantis to begin preparing the engineering team to return and help with the wells. Bale decided not to let his chance go and followed them out to the edge of the village. The party shook hands with the Elders and departed down the rocky path that led out through the fields. Bale knew that the sun would not last, and wagered he knew exactly where the strangers were going.

Taking a short cut through one of the fields, and past the quarry where much of the village got it's stone for building, after a while he stood at the forests edge willing himself to go further. The elders had taught the children to stay out of that part of their lands as that was where the gateway was, and that it was dangerous. There was always one child in every group who asked why, to which they always replied 'A great menace would appear and take them.' The children never asked much more, letting the mystery sink in with fearful awe. If any did they would tell the story of a boy named Parus, who went against the elders edict, entered the forest and disappeared. So instead of entering right away, Bale decided to watch to see if he was right, as he could observe the entire tree line for quite a distance.

Not long after finding a hiding spot in the dying light, Bale saw the four strangers walk down the path which ended at the forests edge. Not missing a step or even slowing, they entered so nonchalantly that this give him courage. Doubting the elders word, he braved the bracken of the tangled bushes, skirting the path of Sheppard and his group, following the conversation that he could hear as they didn't appear to be worried about being heard. They spoke of food, and the fact that McKay couldn't beat someone named 'Zelenka' at something called 'chess'. McKay seemed to whine much at this. The others spoke as well, but in much lower volume so that Bale had trouble hearing. He followed a rise that seemed to run parallel to their intended path, and after some time, the rise ended at a cliff near a clearing. What Bale saw made him gasp, realizing what it was, but never realizing its size.

In the middle of the clearing was a giant ring, presumably the gateway, symbols etched across its surface. In front of it was a pedestal with a large red polished dome in the middle of it, with more symbols etched in a couple of circles around it. Bale grinned and waited, understanding that he got there before Sheppard and the rest. So he waited as the light got dimmer.

After a moment or two he heard them walk into the clearing, and peeked over the edge of the cliff. His eyes were adjusting nicely, and he watched as McKay approached the pedestal. He appeared to be tapping some of the symbols, and Bale being very quick of mind, tried to remember which symbols they were. He had trouble taking it all in, since the ring began to move, aligning symbols with several clamp like pieces spaced around the outside, each glowing when it found a particular symbol. On the pedestal once seven of them appeared to be glowing, McKay placed his hand on the dome in the middle. A loud roar emanated from the ring, coupled by a whooshing sound, and a flash which to Bales eye appeared to create a fountain of crashing water which erupted from the ring. No sooner had the fountain splashed, it had quickly settled into this glowing vertical pond of sorts. Bale had never imagined the like, and his excitement was almost unbearable.

Sheppard stepped into the pond, and the rest followed, flowing through the apparent fluid, to which Bale was sure they would just end up on the other side. A moment later the glowing pond disappeared in a flash of light and a snap of sound. The clearing was dark once more and Bale looked as best he could. The sun was gone and the light from the ring made spots dance in his eyes. He made his way down to the clearing as quietly as he could, the elders warning still echoed in his memory. Sneaking about, he made his way on to the pedestal and looked at the symbols he thought were pressed. His vision still adjusting, he hastily grabbed a stick, and memorized the symbols that he believed were the ones touched by McKay. Without a word he ran to a soft patch on the ground under a tree, and marked the symbols into the dirt. Checking again, and then a third time that he got them right, he turned his attention to the ring.

After seeing it in action, he dare not go up to it, fearful something would happen that might be terrible. His imagination ran wild with childhood stories of beasts, and monsters kidnapping little children from their beds. He was giddy. Examining what he could in the dark, he began understand that it wasn't just some kind of stone, not some monolith left over from a previous age. But something more. He didn't dare stay any longer, as the dark of night seemed to close on his mind. Overhead the stars twinkled and glimmered in the clear sky, and Bale decided to make the best time he could to get home and plan for his return.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors note : Just to be clear I'll be attempting to post once a week, and hopefully not less than that._

Bale thought he was going to get a beating from his Father for coming home in the middle of the night. Truthfully he didn't think he was going to get home at all since he nearly got lost, but just happened to stumble on the fields. Luck played into his hand, and Bale was sent to sleep without a cold meal. In the flickering firelight, he lay on his palette and thought about what his next move was. Too excited to sleep he lay there thinking of what could be, rather than taking the pragmatic approach of understanding what was more likely.

At some point he must have fallen asleep. His Father woke him with a shake, and he protested with a flailing limb.

"Don't test me boy. You're Mother has already started her day and you have some chores. Most notably helping Irrol with the stones in the field." Bale could tell his Father was still upset, and decided not to irritate the him further with his sloth. He pushed himself out of bed and began to wash from the pitcher that was left, the water now cold and brisk. His Father left for the mill, and Bale considered the plan he had hatched during the long hours of the night. He decided to wait the day out, and gather the things he thought he would need. Some food, maybe a shirt, and a blanket were all that he could come up with. Seeing a knife his Mother had left on the table, he added that to the list as well. The smell of once warm stew hit his nostrils, and he spooned some out of the cauldron left to the side of the fire. It was thick and had a skin over it, but as breakfasts went dismissed it mentally, thinking of nothing but his future adventures.

The day ran on, and Bale helped Irrol putting stones on the cart from the north field. After the back breaking labour, went to feed the some of the village livestock his family was to care for, and then help a neighbour with hauling bark strips to repair their roof before the next rains came. At the end of the day, he sat at the table listening to his parents talk of village business, and gossip they had heard. He Father had an abrupt manner about him sometimes, and belched loudly while his Mother spoke. Bales family was fairly normal, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Once supper was finished, he helped his Mother clean up while his Father went to attend a meeting at the long house.

"Mother. Those visitors that were here yesterday. Do you think they'll come back?" He asked, very much out of the blue.

"I don't know dear. That would be for Mephis to tell you. Although why he would let a 12 year old boy in on matters of the village is beyond me." She smiled and gave his shoulders a squeeze, while he tried to dry the freshly washed cauldron out.

"I suppose." He considered for a moment what to say next. "I would like to visit where they are from." His Mother shook her head a little while she wiped the table clean with an already dirty rag.

"Someday maybe you will. But I dare say my Son that I wouldn't want you leave here. We have all that we need."

The evening turned to slumbering. His Father snored loudly, curled up next to his Mother behind the curtain that served to give a measure of privacy between parents and child. Bale waited until late, and then put his plan into motion. Sneaking about the small dwelling he quietly gathered the things he needed: a blanket, a spare shirt, some fruit and dried meat, and a small knife from the back of the cabinet so as not to arouse his Mothers suspicion in the morning. As silently as he could, he bound up the items in a sling made from an old pair of trousers his Mother had converted for hauling vegetables from the field. Stashing the bundle under his palette, he tried to get some sleep, knowing that the next day might be a little hectic.

Morning light blazed down as he ran across the fields to the forests edge. He had told his mother that he was going to try and catch some fish down near the river just beyond the fields. The village kept some traps there for those so inclined, but there was rarely ever success. She waved him off with a 'Be careful!' as he set out, not bothering to inquire about the sling.

Bale followed the path he had taken the two nights before as best as he could, noticing far more than what he had in the dim light of the previous trip. It wasn't long before he had retraced his steps to the clearing where the massive ring stood, as if abandoned by giants long ago. He took a quick look at the markings he had made last time under the tree, finding them legible as they could be.

"Well now." He mused. "I wonder if I can be a great explorer too?" With that he examined the combination of symbols and made sure he knew exactly where they were on the pedestal. He wasn't sure if the sequence was important or not, but decided that it wasn't so much that as what symbols were actually pressed. He ran his hand over the strange markings on the pedestal, suddenly unsure if this was what he wanted. Gritting his teeth and steeling his mind, he pressed the first one, as just touching them didn't seem to be enough. It lit up and made a strange sound like a drum out of tune. The giant ring began to react, its inner piece rotating the symbols to the first clamp which lit up rather quickly. Feeling the momentum of this, he pressed the rest, each lighting up in turn, and the ring grinding away to align the marks. Once the sequence was complete, he placed his hand on the dome, warm in the daylight, took a quick breath, and pressed down. As with the last time, noise and the crashing of water sprung forth, retracted and was held in place, shimmering even in the full light of day. Bale approached the ring, watching every motion of the undulating liquid with awe, as it gently rippled and churned, like a lake he had seen once on breezy day. Bravely he put out a hand and just ever so slightly brushed the surface, feeling the cold against his finger tips. He realized how achy his face had become from smiling so hard, enthralled at the wonder he was beholding. It wasn't long before he bravely stuck an arm in, the tingling sensation of the strange vertical pond making his arm cool and numb. He suddenly held his breath and stuck his head in to see what was below the surface, and as if someone grabbed his arm, was drawn in, enveloped by the fluid.

A flash and his vision lit up, all manner of lights and colours swam through his sight. He felt as one falling, but in so discernible direction. He made to scream, but the roar which came from everywhere seemed to flood his aural senses, giving him no small measure of claustrophobia. I wasn't long though before whatever had grabbed him, flung him out the other side. At once he was tumbling down a small flight of stone stairs, over and over, coming to rest in darkness. His heart threatened to jump from his chest, and quickly realizing that he wasn't severely injured looked up at the ring to see the shimmering pond disappear with a clapping noise. He lay there for a moment in darkness, coming to the conclusion that it was night time, or so he hoped. His body was chilled, but it didn't impair him as he lay there warming up from the near panic. A thought burst into his mind of what had grabbed him, and he sprang to his feet looking about for a ghastly creature, ready to consume his young flesh.

In the darkness there was no trace of malice, or beasts of legend. He squinted, taking in his surroundings now only illuminated by strange stars overhead. From what he could glean this wasn't the clearing he had set out from, and the look of the stars overhead was certainly different from home. His mouth went dry, and any semblance of adventurousness had long since fled. He realized he was alone, and some place strange. To one side there were trees and bushes, and he decided to move there until morning came. Dropping his sling down under a large tree, he plopped down beside it and looked at the clearing again, confirming his fears.

"Is this Atlantis?" He asked. "Where am I?"

A light breeze kicked up, cooling him further. Bale suddenly lamented the loss of his bed, and a warm fire he felt was surely there. He pulled the blanket out of the sling and wrapped it around him, barely enough to cover him fully in curled up ball, and shivered from the cold knot of realization that getting home might be harder than he thought. Taking stock of what he did know now, he tried to sleep, but instead wept the night away.

Morning didn't bring much of an improvement to Bales humours. Stretching out from the cramped ball he spent the night in, the thin layer of light began to illuminate the clearing, hurting his eyes. They already felt uncomfortable from being depleted of tears, and the light seemed to mock their dryness. Rubbing them one more time, he sat up feeling mildly depressed. A piece of fruit and a small strip of dry meat later, he realized that he had no water. Getting to his feet he examined the clearing further. The gigantic ring and the pedestal were arranged relative to one another just as they had been back home, but the clearing wasn't so much of a clearing as it was the edge of a prairie to which he could see for a very long distance. And what he presumed hours ago was a forest, was actually just a small copse of trees and bushes. Not far off stood a bump in the landscape, like some kind of blemish in a pristine field of grass. He picked up his sling and decided that he would set out for that, as he could surely see the ring from there.

The ground was relatively soft in some spots, which from the lessons on farming that Treely had given him as a smaller child indicated moisture, which meant a possible source of water. This gave him hope as he walked, pondering whether he would stumble across a brook or stream. Walking along his hands brushed the long grasses, and he remarked quietly that it wasn't much different from home. So much so that he plucked a stalk and place it between his teeth, tasting the bitterness of the juices inside. His mood was still foul but he felt at least he was ok for the moment.

Walking along, he happened upon a small pond hidden by the long grass. Shouting with a joy he knelt down and scooped up a handful of the cold liquid and almost took a sip, before realizing that it could be bad. He sniffed it for a moment, thinking that it smelled ok, and stuck the tip of his tongue in it. No foul taste, and no burning, he sipped at some and then leaned down to put his face in to gulp a bunch. Just as his lips touched the water, the far edge of the pond changed, and a little creature with six legs crawled out. It's body was as green and brown as the grasses waving around them, and it had an insect like appearance as it scuttled about briskly. It turned and seemed to notice Bale, who lay on his belly watching the little creature. It made its way around the pond towards him using two thin claws to aid its six legs. Black beady looking eye stuck out from the top of what Bale was sure was a shell. As it got closer, her could see a pair of hook like fangs just below its eyes. Bale, unsure of the little creatures intentions, slowly got up as it stopped only an arms length away from his feet and stared, or so Bale thought.

"Hello?" said Bale, unsure why he said anything. The little creatures body cocked sideways, and it make a small squeel noise. A moment later, another creature pushed out of the pond on to the ground, also staring at him. Bale began to step back, when the first creature leapt without a sound, and thrust one of its fangs into the edge of his boot. Bale screamed and kicked, flinging the creature out over the pond, and then promptly falling over. The second creature made an incredibly loud screeching noise, and the pond surface began to roil and churn. First one, then dozens of the creatures burst from the water squealing horrendously and charging towards him. Bale screamed and kicked as he pushed away trying desperately to find purchase for his flailing feet. One foot touched a solid rock, which was enough to help push him to his feet as more of the squealing insects were leaping to sink in fangs. Now up he ran, and cut to one side hoping the creatures would have a hard time following. His tactic paid off as he could hear the squeaking mass fade. Dozens of stride later he turned to look and saw no pursuit, so he opted to slow to a jog, as he continued out to the bump on the plains.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: This chapter is a little slow, but rest assured the next one has a little more.**

It took longer than he thought. Every once in a while he would turn and look back from where he came, still seeing the ring in the distance. As he approached he realized that the 'bump' was actually a much larger rise, and within minutes was bounding up a gentle slope to its peak.

At the top he looked out across the grasslands. His heart sank a little as it appeared like there was nothing but grasslands as far as the horizon. In one direction there was a dark smear of what could be a real forest, but he was unsure. He sat down in a huff, tears threatening his eyes once more.

"I'll never get home." he whined, tearing out a fistful of grass in his frustration. He pounded against his thigh, and considered going back to the ring. If he tried another sequence maybe he would end up in a better place. _Or somewhere worse_ he thought. It didn't take long for him to decide, as he felt sitting there was not saving him at all. _I hope Mother and Father don't worry._ He stood up and wiped his face, then stopped. Something was different but he wasn't sure what, and he scanned the landscape again, fearful that those insect creatures were coming for him. Then he spied it.

It looked to him to a rock, or maybe a roof? He couldn't be sure as it was so obscured by the waving grasses, that he feared it was an illusion. Not taking his eyes away he began to move, his feet seemed to act of their own accord. He traveled in the direction of the... thing, unsure of what he would find. The ring was off to one side, the only thing visible for mile save the little patch of trees next to it.

As he traveled he noticed that he still seemed to be getting higher, which he couldn't be sure if it was a trick of the landscape. A cruel jest to make him feel as if he was losing his mind. What seemed like hours had passed. His feet were sore from walking, and he kept pulling little slivers of grass from his shoes. To further sour his mood, he found water again, as his foot plunged through loose ground to soak his leg to the hip. He was on a bog, and decided rashly not to entertain the thought of getting the water here. If there was hundreds of little insect creatures in a small pond, sure there were millions in a hidden bog! So with one leg wet he continued, keeping his eye on where the supposed roof was.

A short time after, trundling through the grass haphazardly as fatigue was setting in, he had broken through the edge of the grasslands. But as fate would have it, Bale broke through what seemed like the edge of the vegetation, and began falling, tumbling down a step incline. As he rolled, and rolled, he could see a massive dark object fill his vision, interspersed with his own feet and the hill side. He came to rest, bruised and angry, at the foot of a gigantic tower. He sprang to his feet and began flailing about disoriented from the tumble. His vision swam, and a rushing sound was in his ears as he wobbled on his feet trying to stay standing. He waited until things settled, and checked his sling, amazed that the few things he had brought were still there. His amazement quelled the anger from his fall, and he looked around, or rather up, at the tower before him. Black polished stone stretched up several meters, and ended with as he had seen earlier, a roof made from some kind of slate.

"Well that explains that." he mused, thinking of his initial thoughts from the bump. The base of the tower was large, and he began to walk around it feeling the smooth cut of the stone, obviously done by a mason of the highest quality in his estimation. The tower was round, and sleek, the blackness of the polished stone enough to reflect his darkened image. He paid no mind as he walked, and though of it even less as he rounded the base and found a village. Quickly he realized that this was no normal village.

Huts, similar in size to the ones in his home village were laid out in an organized fashion, allowing pathways and roads between. But many of the roofs were gone, collapsed inward as they had not withstood the test of time. In frightful amazement, he scanned about, fear thrilling his already tired body. He looked for any sign of person or beast. Surely someone had to have built this! Slowly he crept in to the ruins, finding the first hut empty save roof pieces, some furniture, and a dust everywhere.

"Hello?" he said barely above a whisper. The floor was wooden, and creaked as he stepped in. The creaking seemed too loud and he dare not venture farther lest it give way. He decided to try another dwelling, and this one had much more than he bargained for.

He peered in through the crooked doorway into the dim dusty light. A breeze shuttled through, swirling particles of decay into beams of light streaming from the holes above. The floor hear seemed much more stable, and he snuck in as silently as he could.

"Is anyone here?" He said louder this time. "Hello?" at the far side of the room he could see a curtain, possibly where the people slept. _Maybe they slept during the day here?_ He quietly shuffled over, still not fully trusting the integrity of the floor, and reached to pull the curtain aside so as to peek around it. It was dark on the other side, but enough light leaked in to give him a view, much to his own horror.

Bones. Skeletons of two people, one in the bed and one on the floor, lay still in clothing, and smiled with their horrible visage at Bale. He had never seen a skeleton before, and wanted to scream, but instead bit his lip and backed up, keeping his eyes on the curtain, as if afraid he would disturb the dead and in turn wake them for their vengeance. He ran back into full day light as soon as he could, and breathed heavily panicked. The warmth of day gave him courage and he continued to look through the rest. Clearly the village had been long since abandoned by any potential survivors to what ever holocaust fell on them. Several huts, and several more skeletons, including those of children, Bale came into the village center. Two things greeted his eye. One was a mass of scattered bones from dozens more dead. Skulls stared, daring him to come closer, plotting their trap, or so Bale felt as the knot of dread twisted in his stomach. But the other thing was a well. Stepping around the parts of former living beings, he peered into the dark well, seeing the glint of water reflecting dim light from its surface, barely moving. Bale picked up a small rock, examining it to ensure it wasn't a finger bone, or some part of the various dead. He tossed it into the well, hearing the plopping sound echo from the bottom, and the waters surface shimmering as the little ripples flowed out from the epicenter. There was a hand winch, rope and bucket over top he could use. He began to lower it, noting how rough it was turning. At the bottom, the bucket slowly filled, as did Bales sudden excitement at the prospect of drinking. Once full he cranked the bucket back up with considerable effort. Taking some water into his hand, he gave it sniff hoping that it didn't smell stagnant. Much to his delight the was no smell, and he stuck his tongue into his palm, feeling the coolness of it. Realizing that it was likely fine, he put the bucket on the edge of the well and began to sip quickly, hand to mouth, trying not to look around too much.

Minutes later his belly felt very full, and he could feel the sloshing of the water inside his stomach as he walked towards the tower. Burping loudly, he caught himself fearful that someone would notice.

"I don't think the good people of this place will mind." He said to himself grimly. Approaching the tower he found a staircase and door, finely carved with ornate workings that seemed to show some kind of hunting scene. He tried the wrought iron handle, not too worried that someone would accuse him of entering unwanted if the rest of the village was any example. Like the winch at the well, the door handle seemed rough, and Bale had to put weight on it to get it to move. After a moment the handle gave way, and the latch released. Slowly he pushed the door open, which was much heavier than he had estimated. It swung inwards with the groan of hinges long in need of oiling, and beyond was a darkened room. Unsure of what he should do, he stood looking inside trying to glean something, but as black as the walls were outside, the same was true inside.

Looking back at the village, he remembered not taking the flint he had seen in one of the huts, not wanting to incur the wrath of the dead residents. Practicality won out though, and he ran back and grabbed it, promising the residents in hushed tones that he would atone for his transgression. Finding an old piece of cloth, he created a very poor torch from a plow handle, and went back to the towers dark entrance. It took a very long time before he could get a spark, and much longer still to set the torch ablaze, which barely glowed at all. Wasting no time, he stepped into the tower.

The room was furnished with several chairs around a small table, some book shelves like ones he had seen in the long house back home, and a hearth with a stack of wood next to it. He took the opportunity to start a fire just to add more light. Successful he examined the book shelves, seeing volumes filled with incomprehensible words. _Not that I can read well._ His torch began to die and he set its remains into the hearth with the blazing wood, feeling the warmth sooth his mood. He found what he believed to be a lamp, which remembering watching his Mother light them in their home, he got a burning sliver from the fire place, set the wick with the brass knob, and lit it. Adjusting the flame he suddenly had plenty of light, and decided to examine the rest of the tower. The stairs were stone and barely worn, and Bale ascended to the higher levels. He found many other rooms but all were empty save furnishings. One room had some food stuffs, and preserves of some kind, which Bale committed to memory, and continued on. Eventually he came to the top, which was a hatchway in the ceiling. Heavy and rusted, he pushed and strained, his young body working against the decay of the hatchway fittings. Eventually he won through, and the hatch opened to the point where a rod locked it open, so he wouldn't have to hold it up. Climbing out he was outside. A roof over him sheltered from that which was overhead, and openings allowed him to see all around most of the landscape. The hill from which his tumble occurred was high enough that he could only see a little distance in that direction. But he could see the entirety of the village, as well as a quarry filled with black stone, and a small forest just beyond, which gave way to more grasslands.

Bale looked out for what seemed a long time, and suddenly became chilled. The wind kicked up, and he could see the sun slowly dropping into the horizon signaling the end of the day. Taking the cue, he climbed back in the hatch and closed it, trying not to let the heavy mass knock him down the stairs. The lantern provided a little warmth as he worked his way to the warmer chambers below. He sat down at the table, and took some dried meat out of his sling, chewing thoughtfully.

"Well," he vocalized, gnawing against the tough salt meat, "I guess I'll have to stay the night." His statement made him feel glum, and he finished his meat in silence, before curling up next to the hearth, on the warm stone floor.


	4. Chapter 4

Bale awoke in darkness. The fire had died to embers, softly glowing in the hearth like deformed eyes staring at him. The lamp had run out of oil on the table, so he felt his way to the small wood pile next the to hearth and put a log on, coaxing the fire back to life. Looking around he found a small flask of lamp oil and set to figuring out how to fill the lamp, all the while wondering what his next move would be. The ring was far distant but he could certainly make it there and back within the day, but for now he had to make sure he had enough to survive. The tower was fine, seeing as how there was no skeletons; the thought making him shiver a little, but he'd need something better to sleep on than the stone floor. Realizing what he was doing, he shook his head and grimly continued trying to fill the lamp.

 _I have to get home._ A short while later he checked the room with the provisions, hoping it had something other than dried meats. Jars and small clay pots held sweet sticky fluids and pickled things. One jar made him nearly vomit as the smell invaded his nostrils, reeking of rotting fish. Other containers had preserves that tasted of dumberries, and pickled briaroot, which he loved. They were small enough to carry and he decided to hold on to one of each, bringing them back to the table near the hearth. He searched other rooms more thoroughly, and discovered more books, some clothes, and a waterskin made from some unknown beast. He took that particular item and decided to go to the well.

Outside the wind was higher than the day before, kicking up dust from the small roadways and paths in the village. In the village center, near the well, the clothes of the dead, dirty and tattered flapped about slightly, the wind merely threatening to carry the garments away. Bale tried not to look at the bodies, and made his way to fill the skin at the well. Once it was filled to bulging, he flung it over his shoulder, holding it by a length of leather cord and began walking back to the tower. He stopped suddenly, and looked about apprehensively. Something had changed, but he couldn't put his finger on it, like a breath on the back of his neck here and gone again. Noticing his proximity to the dead, his skin crawled, and he willed his feet to move in haste back to the perceived sanctuary of the tower.

Back inside he used his time to eat, and look at some of the books in the flickering lamp light. He couldn't read very well to begin with, but the jumble of scribblings on the pages were written in a language he was unfamiliar with. There were pictures though in some of the volumes, and he tried his best to understand what they were telling him. Some were of farming scenes, showing herd beast and farmer plowing, while others sowed seed. Others were of more mundane things such as women doing laundry, and the building of a house of some kind, nothing like the dwellings outside. Bale flipped through volume after volume, looking for some kind of hint, and was graciously rewarded for his effort.

A leather bound and worn volume was plucked from the shelf, and on the cover was pressed in the symbol of a ring, similar to the very ring he needed to get home. His heart raced in wonder, hoping that it would contain the way to do just that. Inside were nearly a hundred pages of entries, on each page symbols at the top which he remembered from the pedestal, and a long entry below it which was as the others, incomprehensible. Some pages had long entries, and others were shorter, but more interesting still were the pages of the shortest entries. Each one had been scribed with its language in triple the size of the other pages, and the ink used was much darker. Bale sat there fascinated, giddy with the idea that this might be his way home. He passed the day away looking at the book, and taking breaks only to look for another one in the tower, as well as take care of his human needs. On one such excursion to relieve himself, he still felt as if something was amiss, hurriedly finished his business, and went back into the tower. He slept once again that night by the fire, and remembered this time to dampen the lamp so as to save fuel.

The next day Bale gathered his things into the sling, including the two jars of preserves and the book. He took the waterskin and fixed it so that it hung off the sling on the outside, not wanting to damage the book if he could help it. After refilling his skin at the well, he climbed the slope; a task which nearly had him recreate his arrival several times over. At the top he looked over the grasslands as the breeze gently swept the stalks in successive waves, giving an alternating texture to the landscape. Seeing the bump in the distance, he decided to begin making his way to one side, shortening his trip to the ring. As he walked he still could not shake the feeling of... something wrong. After walking for some time, and nearly sinking into another bog, he spied the ring in the distance. Still far off with its copse of trees flowing nearby, he smiled in nervous anticipation. This was quickly replaced with the realization of a noise he had never heard in his life.

A buzzing sound, faint and distant from what he could garner, echoed across the grasses. It wasn't coming from one direction, but rather was low enough that he just couldn't tell which direction specifically it was in.

"Do those insect creatures make that sound?" he mused aloud, looking vainly around at the waving grasses surrounding him. He kept walking, forcing himself to keep his destination in sight. After several more minutes of pressing through the foliage, the noise grew louder, giving him the general direction it was coming from. High above the horizon was an object moving incredibly fast, faster than anything he had ever witnessed. He couldn't make out the details as it was so distant, but it flew unlike a bird, unlike anything natural he had seen, and he got the distinct impression of sleekness to it. It traveled across the sky and dipped below the horizon, gone again. Bale was relieved although wasn't sure why. The strange object seemed to bare no malice, and maybe it was a sign of other people?

 _Maybe they know how to get me home?_ He thought excitedly, and continued on with a lighter mood, imagining other people who were receptive to a boy from outside their community.

After a long wearisome walk through the high grasses, Bale broke through into the clearing were the ring was. Just as he had left it, the pedestal and ring stood there as if monuments before time. He walked up to it and then pulled out the book, noticing the wind pick up again. Looking inside its pages, Bale examined the symbols for a moment, seeing that they were as he thought the same as the markings on the pedestal and ring. Seven symbols on each page, and a hundred pages or so in the book. The possibilities seemed to crowd his mind.

"Which to try?" he whispered to no one. The sound returned, buzzing quite loudly, as the strange flying thing crested a low point on the horizon, and screamed across the landscape directly towards him and the ring. He could make out the sharp pointed nose, and triangular body. Its skin smooth, yet comprised of some sort of plates. If flew towards him at frightening speed, and he ducked when a beam of light emanated from its belly just short of the far side of the clearing, in the tall grasses, and then went away. The craft blazed past him, the screeching noise coming from it seeming to chill his blood slightly as it swooped low overhead and then out over the field. He watched it go only briefly, as the scream was replaced by a much more subtle noise. The grasses where the light beam had hit were moving. Bale had nowhere to hide save the trees, but that would be very limited as there weren't many to hide behind. Planning to long, a man, then a second pushed out of the grasses. Bale had a surge of joy and stood up smiling, sticking his hand up to wave, when he realized that his assessment was wrong. The 'men' were not at all, but humanoid, wearing clothing that had the distinction of some kind of protective suit, or armor with an odd metal chest piece, and black underclothes. They carried long thin staves with seemingly large heads with pointed ends, but carried them like the spears he had seen the village men back home train with once in a while. But the masks covering their faces, pitted and wrought, seemed very wrong. The two scanned about, their pale hands clutching their implements, as their white stringy looking hair seemed flip about.

"Ancestors help me!" he whispered and flipped open the book to a random page. He heard a grunt and looked up. The two beings had spied him on the pedestal and started walking towards him, pointing what he now realized was their weapons at him. "Help me! Oh sweet Mother help me!" He tore his eyes back from staring at the two, and looked at the page the book was open on. It was one of the strange pages with the larger writing, and Bale shook his head not wanting to chance something that seemed so unknown, even though he couldn't read it. The next page had more writing, and he began quickly to press the symbols on the pedestal based solely on that. His fingers seemed to fumble as he almost pressed the wrong symbol, but was heartened as he could hear the rings moving. Checking where they were as he finished his task, the two beings were just passing in front of the gate when Bale reached out and pressed the dome. All the clamps finished aligning, the ring sprang to life with an eruption of shimmering liquid. One of the two people were caught fully in the water, and the other only partially. Once the pond had settled hovering and shimmering stably, Bale could see the result, and nearly cried out. Of the one that was caught fully in the water as it shot out, only his feet remained, whereas the other was missing one arm to the shoulder, and the better part of his back. His organs and bones were exposed, and seemed black and slick in the light of the ring.

Bale could hear the buzzing craft returning, and feeling as though he walked through mud, forced himself to the ring clutching the book with fear weakened hands. His eyes would not move from the carnage he had created, and he could feel bile in his stomach churning, threatening to burst out. Tears rolled down his cheeks, having never killed anything short of fish or fowl, he shook as he disappeared into the shimmering liquid, the scream of the craft dying away in the rush of light and speed.


	5. Chapter 5

The chill washed over him, and he felt as if one falling. The sensation was truthful when in a flash of light he could feel his body launching through warm air, tumbling. He lost hold of the book and the weight of sling became less as the jars slipped out. Uncontrolled, he was flying through the air, seeing a foreign land pass by in a blur. Within a couple of seconds he crashed into water, shoving the air from his chest. Bale couldn't swim and he thrashed about trying to find the surface, but instead his chest heaved in reaction to the adrenaline and he sucked in a chest full of salty water, panicking him all the more until his thrashing slowed and his vision went black.

Distantly he could hear voices. Specifically women's voices, but he could not make out their speech as it was too faint, a distance between them and himself. He felt very uncomfortable, his chest sore, and his head ached like the village smith was pounding a plow head out of his with a gigantic hammer. The voices got louder but he could only make out pieces, still uncomprehending the conversation.

 _At least I'm warm._ He knew he was laying down, a soft bed beneath him, and mused at the strangeness of it. _Am I home? Did I make it?_ There was the soft knocking of footsteps on stone, and he cracked his eyes, a brilliant light forcing them shut from the pain. He reached up and rubbed them, but didn't try to open them immediately. The footsteps stopped he could feel a sheet that was atop his chest being pulled back, letting the warmth escape. Something cold was pressed against his chest, causing him to spasm slightly, then start a coughing fit. He could taste salt in the back of his throat, and a little blood.

"Easy now." said a woman next to the bed. "I'm just checking to see if your lungs sound better." A warm hand in contrast to the cold thing on his ribs gently squeezed his arm. "Can you take a breath?" Bale complied, to weak to do otherwise, and felt as if his lungs were clogged as it hurt to breath too deeply. He winced at the discomfort and began to cough again. "Can you open your eyes?" Bale tried, this time more slowly, letting his eyes ease into the bright light.

"Where am I?" he rasped, almost inaudibly. As his eyes focused, he could finally see the woman next to him. She was wearing a long white coat and gloves, with her long brown hair tied up in a braid over her shoulder. The gentle wrinkles next to her eyes were enhanced by her smile. Bale guessed that she wasn't really old, but as had happened to some women back home, spent to much time in the field, the sun doing something to their skin.

"You are in the township of Uriah. And since I was told you came through the gate, I'll tell you that you're on the planet Stellara." She pulled the sheet up over his chest, and made sure his pillow wasn't slipping out from under his head. "You've come a very long way." Bale considered that, but had no point of reference. Ariannia was somewhere but he had no idea how he could measure how far he had come. A horrendous thought occurred to him, and he tried to push up against the sheet.

"The book!" he rasped loudly, and then fell back weakened. The woman fixed his sheet again, regarding him with a most compassionate expression.

"Albertous found your possessions at the foot of the gate. One of the jars was broken, but the other was found, as well as the book you're worried about." Bale sunk into the softness of the mattress. "Now my name is Ephalia. Do you have a name?"

"Bale."

"Well Bale, you need to rest. We may have to try and pump more fluid out of your lungs if they don't get better on their own. Sleep now, and I'll be back to check on you often." With that she left, her footsteps echoing as if in an empty corridor. Bale took a moment to look about the room. The walls were lined with wooden paneling, lined with trim work, and coated with a lacquer which gave it a light brown sheen. The paneling only extended half way up the wall, as the the remainder was white wash, including the ceiling, giving the room some brightness. The window next to his bed streamed bright daylight, the sun shining through as clouds gently rolled by overhead. He closed his eyes and ignoring the discomfort in his chest, tried to sleep.

He woke up to the sensation of cold, and Ephalia moving about the room. She had pulled the sheet off his body and bed. From what he could see, she was going to replace it with a new one when she noticed he was awake. He also noticed that he had nothing on but a pristine white loin cloth.

"Good evening Bale. I see you got some rest." she said packing away the old bedclothes into a bin on wheels. "How do you feel?" Bale indicated the need for relief, to which she began to help him up out of bed. He shook off her helping hands, indicating he was fine enough to walk on his own through wheezing breaths. He stumbled to the small room off to one side, finding something like a chamber pot that was affixed to the floor, and a basin attached to the wall. He used the floor device, figuring it was smarter than leaving his waste in the corner. Noticing the wall basin had spigots, he turned one on and within seconds had steaming hot water flowing, almost burning to the touch. He tried the other spigot, and through reasoning, made the water bearable enough to wash with.

He came out to find Ephalia had completely changed the bedclothes, and was standing in wait for him. He shuffled over to the window, to look out at a courtyard of sorts. It appeared as though the building surrounded the view from the window, and outside in the shade of the setting sun, he could see a couple of small gardens filled with flowers, as well as benches and paths. A stonework statue of a man holding a spear and shield stood guard over the scene, as if the flowers were his subjects. The shadows cast on the face of statue gave the appearance of worry as the lines on its face were only further accentuated. Bales chest heaved and he had a coughing fit, tasting again the salt and blood. Ephalia came to his side, gently grabbing his arm and laying a warm hand against his back.

"Come. We must get you back into bed." she said guiding him towards the soft mattress. She helped him up and pulled the sheets over him, having added one more to make the bed all the more warm. "You never get better if you push yourself too hard."

"I can't stay." He rasped, trying not to cough. "I have to find my way home." She smiled, and nodded, her face an expression of sad understanding.

"Well you aren't going anywhere in this state. You need to rest and recover." She went into the room with the basin, and Bale could here a loud rushing sound ending with a gurgling noise. "I can see you've never used a toilet from where you're from. There's a button behind the water tank. You press it when you're done." Bale watched as she moved to the door way and turned a knob on a box. Light from a fixture overhead blossomed into life, casting a flickering glow throughout the room. "Now in the morning Doctor Pesk will arrive to examine you again. He's the man who did the work to get you in the state that you are now. Also Nurse Helispeth will be looking after you during the overnight. I'll be back sometime in the morning alright?" She smiled and left Bale alone again with naught but his own thoughts. He pulled back the sheets, standing up and looked out the window again then turned his attentions to a small cabinet on the other side of the bed. Within was his possessions, including the book which he was worried was thrown into the water. Opening the pages, the text was just as foreign as always, but he looked for the string of symbols that brought him here. He wheezed as he sat on the edge of the bed feeling the stirrings of fluid in his chest as he leaned over the book, and decided to lay rather than sit as it was more comfortable.

Fingering through the pages, he opened to the one that he had refused to use prior to coming here, and brought forth the memory of the beings he had killed. He sat in the flickering light, thinking of the damage the 'gate' had caused when its watery looking surface leaped out from whence it came. The body that had come into contact, as with the other only partially, had ceased to be. It was just... gone. Bale closed his eyes trying not to cry, thinking that his tears had served no purpose thus far. He turned to the next page, finding the symbols to be the ones he looked for, the combination bringing him to Stellara. Picking a thread from one of the sheets, he laid it in to the page, and gently shut the book, vowing to mark the symbols with something he could understand. Seeing how his caretaker had adjusted the light using the control on the wall, he took a minute to figure out how to dim the lighting, to near nothingness. Afterward he lay in his bed watching the stars out the window, and thinking of home, wondering if he would ever see his family again. Tears ran silently down his cheeks unchecked as he looked at the tiny pin pricks of light in the sky.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN : I've posted more than I thought I would this week, considering I'm still trying to keep to my 'one a week' minimum. But I'm not setting a precedent here just so you know. I hope you're all enjoying how Bale is developing as a character. I've got a more long term plot for him than I originally thought.**

The next morning Doctor Pesk arrived to check up on him. He was a short fat balding older man, with a brusque demeanour that barely overshadowed his impatience. He listened to Bales lungs through his 'stethoscope', which he explained briefly to Bale how it worked. After a moment he called for the nurse, gave her instructions to take Bale to the imaging machine so as to get a clearer picture inside him, and then departed without any further conversation. Nurse Helispeth smiled seeing Bales worried expression, obvious to her that he was concerned as to what was going to happen. She was an older woman, near elder status by Bales estimation, who had a worn features of a woman used to hardship. Her graying hair only added to the motherly atmosphere she exuded.

"Now don't you worry young man. The imager will not hurt you in the slightest." She helped him into a wheelchair, all the while he was trying not to have another coughing fit. In another room several floors down, the imager was tended by another nurse who sat at a console with many knobs and buttons. He was made to lay on a table and placed under framework overhead.

"Now don't be scared," said the nurse working the controls with deft hands, "and don't move. This will only take a few moments." At one end of the frame hanging overhead, a light came on, but worse a deep hum came from somewhere in the room. Bales heart raced and he threatened to begin coughing, but willed himself to do as he was told. The light tracked along the frame, shining down with a very thin beam, and where it hit his skin the hairs stood up. Slowly it worked its way to the end, then back once more finally stopping where it started. The light shut off as did the sound, and Nurse Helispeth was by his side once more.

"There. It's done." she said smiling. "Wasn't that bad was it?"

Back in his room, the sunshine of day was replaced by clouds and wet weather. As raindrops ticked against the thin window pane, Bale lay with his book in his lap, trying to decide which string of symbols to try next, when Nurse Ephalia came in with the Doctor.

"Well my boy, you're stuck here for a while." he said tapping the clipboard he was holding. "It looks as though you're developing an infection, thanks to the sea water you sucked in."

"What's an infection?" asked Bale. Nurse Ephalia smiled and took the book from his lap, placing it on the table as the Doctor continued.

"It means you're sick. You're body is fighting off something that was in the water, and your lungs are filling with more fluid. So we have to keep you here until its cleared up." He tapped his lips with a pencil, considering a though as yet unvoiced. After a brief moment, he decided to voice it. "Now I don't know if this means anything to you, but the town Magistrate has agreed to your care, which means you get to stay here in the hospital."

Bale nodded, figuring that the 'Magistrate' was some kind of official, like a Mayor or Lord. He looked at Ephalia, who was fixing up the room quietly, and realized that it wasn't so bad here for now. "So what happens to me while I'm here?"

"It means my boy that you're in good care. We'll be giving you some medicines to help clear up this illness, and once that's done we'll figure out what to do with you." The last part caught Bale by surprise.

"What do you mean 'figure out what to do with me'? I'll have to go." Bale began coughing again, the taste in his throat more familiar and more hated. "I... (wheeze)... need to find my... (cough) way home!" The Doctor just stood there bobbing his head regarding Bale with a critical eye, while Ephalia came to his side and placed a soft hand on his shoulder, gently pressing him back into the bed.

"Look son. We'll cross that ocean when we get there. For now just concentrate on getting better." Doctor Pesk, nodded to Ephalia, and left the room.

"Now the good Doctor has given me a list of things I'll need to get from the hospital dispensary. I'll be back shortly with a few things you'll need to take. Alright?" She smiled at him, and he could do naught but give a cursory affirmation.

She returned after some time, carrying a small tray with four bottles on it, and a glass. "Ok. I need you to drink these two bottles fully," she indicated a small green flask, next to a larger blue one, "and then you'll take one small sip of this," indicating a different green flask, "and finally the pills." She set the tray down on the cabinet beside his bed, and propped him up. "Drink this first. All of it." He took the small green flask and downed it in one gulp. The face he made was indicative of the terrible flavour of it, and Bale just looked at the container in disgust not saying a word. She handed him the blue one, and he apprehensively unstoppered it, and drank. This one tasted worse if it was possible, but he could feel a warmth traveling down his throat and into his stomach, settling there was a nice comforting glow. It reminded him of some wine he nipped from his Fathers tankard at the harvest festival last year. Ephalia undid the top of the second green flask and poured some into the glass she had brought, filling it to a marked spot low on the side. He downed that feeling the warmth turn to a chill within, and then he began to sweat a little, as if vapours travelled up into his head.

"Good!" she exclaimed. "You know the last time I had to give this, a man twice your age threw up everywhere." Bale savoured the small comfort in that thought as he lay back in bed, trying to warm up. "Now the pills are something a little different. Have you ever had pills before?"

"No. Never." He looked up at her. "What are they?"

"They are more medicine, just in a different form." She opened the tiny metal container, and poured a few colored looking rocks out. "These need to be swallowed whole. One at a time." He picked one out of her hand, and began to open his mouth to put it in, but looked to see if it was alright. Ephalia smiled and nodded, to which he popped the pill in and swallowed hard. Like a trying to swallow a small pebble, Bale had to swallow several times to get it out of his throat so he could breath properly again. Ephalia chuckled. "Next time we'll try that with some water. It'll help it go down smoother." She placed the container into the cabinet telling him that he would be taking the regularly, when there was a small rapping at the door. "Oh. Hello Albertous. Come to check up I see?"

Bale tilted his head to see an elderly looking bearded man standing in the doorway. His features were heavily weather looking, as the wrinkles lining his face seemed to be endless in supply. He wrung has hands together as he held a beaten cap in front of his broad chest. He wore a long jacket that was damped from the rain.

"Hallo Ephi. I jes' came to check up on th' youngin'." She ushered him in. "Hiya doin' m'boy?"

Bale watched the man, barely able to understand him. His words so strung together that he believed on the spot the man to be incomprehensible. Ephalia answered for him, giving him moment to try and make sense of his visitor. She told Albertous the diagnosis from the Doctor, indicating a welcomed lengthy stay.

"Thas'good. Ya had me at a fright boy. Never sa' someone flung about th' air like tha'. From where d'ya hale?" Bale realized what he was asking.

"I come from Ariannia. Do you know it?" he asked vainly hoping this man had the answer.

"Nope. Never heard of 'er." said Albertous relaxing enough to stroke his beard a little. "Truth be told, I never been away through th' gate." He considered his own statement for second, and raised his eyebrows. "No one has. Not since th' Magistrate forbidden it."

"Why would he do that?" asked Bale.

"Dunno boy. Happen'd after th' last time th' Wraith were here. Long a'fore my time." he said smiling. "Well... Ah... I jess wanted t'check on y', Bale is it? I'll stop by a'gin once fishin' is done fer th' week. Gotta feed m'youngins." Albertous gave a small wink and bid Ephalia farewell as he left. Ephalia looked to Bale before attending to her other duties.

"Anything you need? Food should be along soon, so I wouldn't worry about that."

"Ephalia, will I meet the Magistrate?" asked Bale.

"Yes you will, when he's ready though I'm afraid." She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "Fear not. Everything will be set right once you are better." Then she left telling him she would be back in a little while. Bale reflected on what Albertous said about traveling through the gate being forbidden, and about the Wraith. Who were the Wraith anyway? Were they the same beings that he had killed before he came here. The thought made his stomach clench a little, but the sound of the days rain gave him something a little more mundane to concentrate on. He looked in the book once more, and perused the symbols looking for his next destination, which he found as he decided on the page with the most words. Surely someone who had written that much about a place would have been there several times with no harm? Supper came. A steaming hot meal of some fluffy white tuber which steamed as he cut it open, some green beans of a sort, and what looked like fowl, but had an odd metallic taste that he wasn't fond of, but ate the whole thing. While Ephalia was there he decided to ask about the Wraith.

"What do you want to know about them for?" she inquired replacing a towel in the basin room with a new one.

"When was the last time they were here? And what do they look like?" He cleaned off the last remnants on his plate and continued. "What did they want?" Ephalia just smiled, and finished her task before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"The Wraith are very, very bad creatures from what I know. They come in giant ships and through gate as well and take people away." Bale asked the 'why' again, to which she replied "For food. They feed on us." Bale was suddenly struck by how candid her response was. Back home children were not to be a part of village affairs at least until the age of raising, a time when a young man or woman could do the work to make their own home, usually around the age of eighteen. So for her not to dumb it down made him commit the information to memory as dire as breathing. He asked what they looked like, to which she painted a grim picture of ghastly creatures taller than a man, with skin white as the dead, and shock white hair. Bale felt his stomach turn over, and she noticed his complexion change for the worse. He explained what he had seen just before ending up in Uriah, and how he had killed the two he now believed were the Wraith. She regarded him with a concerned expression, and sighed a little as if someone had delivered terrible news she knew would eventually come.

"Well now. The Magistrate might want to talk to you sooner than he would like." Bale took that to be serious business, and began wheezing with panic. Ephalia took a moment to calm him, assuring him that he had done nothing wrong. Once settled she told him that Helispeth would be by for the evening soon, and to try and get some rest so that he could recover. As she dimmed the light in concert with the gray skies outside, Bale lay there trying not to cry, and considered without relenting what he would do if the Wraith suddenly showed up here.


	7. Chapter 7

The a week or so had passed by, and Bale was still short of breath as his lungs would not give out the fluid. According to Doctor Pesk he was actually doing very well as the cough had begun to subside, and after another round of in the imager, he declared his lungs on the mend. This gave Bale hope and fear at the same time, since he was more than tired of laying in bed all day, but apprehensive about continuing his journey. Ultimately he promised to himself that he would continue on, knowing that his home was out there somewhere.

During this time he had several visits from Albertous, and had learned a little about this place from him. Albertous was a fisherman and commanded a small boat he reckoned three times bigger than the room Bale was staying in. He told him all about where he had been in the world, and different types of fish he had caught, some smaller than his hand, others as big as his boat. Whenever Albertous made a grand claim it always amused Bale, imagining the sheer scale of the fish he was describing. Feats of daring aside Bale wished for the company of the old sailor, rather than the one thrust upon him. Doctor Pesk escorted an older man, also balding, wearing rich looking tailored clothing judging by the cut of the jacket, and the creases in his pant legs. A gold chain hung from a lanyard looped over his shoulder, and ended with a large medallion etched with various official workings. His black mustache twitched as the Doctor gave introductions.

"Bale this is Magistrate Balgred, the head man of Uriah. He would like to talk to you about your travels." Doctor Pesk grabbed a chair from near the window, and gestured the Magistrate to sit.

"Thank you Doctor." said the Magistrate in a sort cultured tone of voice. One that Bale had never heard in his village, but noticed it once when a traveling merchant came to his village last year. "Well son, I see you're beginning to feel better, or so I'm told. Do you find our accommodations to your approval?"

"Yes sir. The bed is quite good. Better than my own to be honest." This elicited a smirk from the older man.

"Yes well it's very good to be honest isn't it." He looked at the Doctor, who just shrugged and tilted his head seeing nothing wrong with what was said. "Now what I'm here for Bale, is to hear what you told Nurse Ephalia. I'd like to hear it, all the details down to the very last speck of dust if you please." Bale found the Magistrate to be overly serious, but reciprocated with as much detail as possible. He didn't omit anything, and emphasized the details he thought they were looking for. Magistrate Balgred kept nodding, humming and hawing over the details, interjecting a question or two. The whole ordeal seemed to take only a short time, although Bale felt it to be hours.

"So no large ships. Only two soldiers, and one of their fighters." stated the Magistrate as he confirmed the numbers.

"Doesn't seem like it could be a problem." said Doctor Pesk looking out the window at a bright midday.

"Maybe not, but where there's one, there's most certainly more. What troubles me is that we don't know where they really are." The Magistrate leaned back thoughtfully in his seat, nervously pulling at his mustache. "I believe I should at least let the senior ministers know that there were some Wraith spotted, although I believe I know what their response will be." The Doctor grunted his agreement from the window, as if they both knew the outcome of of the future, seen with an experienced yet cynical eye. "Well Bale, I thank you for your time. As I've instructed the Doctor, you're to stay here until you're fit to leave, at which point we shall find you a family to lodge with until you're of age to work."

"What?!" Bale nearly jumped up, but his shout sent him into a fit of coughing. "You can't do!...(cough cough)... Can't! …. (cough wheeze)... I won't!" The Doctor appeared at his side, calling for the nurse, to which Ephalia walked in apparently just outside the door. She took care of Bale, all the while nearly shouting at the Magistrate for such a callous revelation. She ushered them out, on the verge of shouting obscenities, but remaining firmly in control. Bale grabbed his sides as his coughing fit aggravated his chest. He lay there panting for breath, and only coughing occasionally as Ephalia sat down next to him, and stroked his hair as if his Mother was nursing him. "They can't keep me here." he said through rasping breaths. His throat was raw, which made him all the more upset.

"Is Uriah so bad?" said Ephalia. "You could have a life here couldn't you?" Bale responded by tightening up in a ball, which Ephalia took as a signal to be left alone. The rest of the day was spent plotting and scheming ways out. All was not lost, and he still had plenty of time to heal, which meant time to make his escape.

The next day was bright and sunny again, with light clouds traversing an intensely blue sky. Nurse Helispeth told him he was allowed to go out in the courtyard for some fresher air for a while, once the morning chill was off. She had arranged for Ephalia to have lunch with him outside, as she was due to be home asleep for a time before her next shift. Once midday came Ephalia brought him to a table set in a corner of the yard, where the stonework walls of the building seemed to absorb and radiate heat. In this spot he was sweating a little, but it was good to be out where he could smell the air, which to his delight was salty. In the distance he could hear the gentle crashing of the waves on the coast, and the squawking of birds on the wind. Ephalia set lunch down on the table, and arranged herself to join him in act of nourishment.

"I can't stay Ephalia." was how he started.

"Oh?" was all she replied with. He looked at her sideways, annoyed by her brevity.

"You know I can't stay. I have to get back through the gate. I need to find my parents, my home." She took a bite and nodded, not looking at him. "Ephalia the Magistrate can't keep me here."

"Bale." The tone she started with sounded contrary to the smile she carried which made him pay attention all the more. "You're only a young man. Barely old enough to haul line or set trap." He wasn't sure what she meant but he let her go on. "If we put you out, back through the gate, how would you survive? What would that say about us here in Uriah? About me? How could I live with myself knowing that I sent you to almost certain death?" She set her sandwich down. Her face had soured, which was hard for Bale to watch. They heard a greeting shouted from across the courtyard, and saw Albertous idling up towards them as fast as his legs would go. Ephalia took a deep breath and called back a cheery greeting.

"Wha's goin on 'ere? A little lunch for th' young man?" said Albertous as he grabbed a chair from another table, and sat with them. "Reckon I shoulda had me own a'fore I left th' house."

"Well today is your lucky day sir." said Ephalia as she pushed her plate in front of him. He put his hands up to refuse, but she cut him off. "I didn't have too much time either way. You eat it and keep Bale here company. I'll be back in a little bit." And with that she walked off briskly, as if there was anyplace but there she wanted to be.

"Well now. Wha's tha' about?" He looked at Bale, curious. "Didja have a tiff?" Bale just bobbed his head a little, confirming the old mans assumption. "Well don't be to hard on th' girl. She's best lady 'round 'ere." He took a bite from the uneaten part of the sandwich and continued. "Wha'dya talk about?"

Bale told Albertous of the Magistrates visit, and of the mans directive to keep him in Uriah until he was old enough to be useful. Albertous sat back listening and chewing away, stroking absently away at his beard. When Bale had finished he tried to echo Ephalia's sentiments.

"They're right t'try m'boy. Whatevers beyond tha' gate be trouble."

"Whatever is beyond that gate could be where I belong." He was frustrated enough that he felt he should be shouting or pacing. Anything but sitting there not eating. "Why does everyone want to keep me here?"

"Y'want the truth?" Albertous grabbed his attention and tied it up. He wiped the crumbs out of his beard and took a pull from the still warm tea that Ephalia had left. "Ephi an I go way back. Her father was on m'crew a long time ago. Now she lost him to th' seas during a storm. Later on m'own son Jep got taken..." Albertous paused, his mouth suddenly dry. He took another sip of tea and closed his eyes before continuing. "M'boy was a few years older than you. He got caught up in some line off th' back of th' boat, and hauled to th' bottom." Bale started to feel awful. Albertous spoke with a shakey voice, bordering on crying. "I jumped in after him, and I watched him sink so far down, tha' I couldn't reach him. Jep and Ephi were in love, and they never got t'be together." They both sat there silent for a minute while the old man gathered his words and thoughts. Bale wanted to start crying, but he railed against this feeling. _It's not my time to cry_. Albertous looked up at him, a renewed intensity glinted away in his gaze. "When I pulled y' from th' ocean, I saw my chance t'do what I couldn't for me son. I imagine tha' what all th'loss Ephi's had, she saw th' same." Bale was guilty, but had to hide it, as Albertous looked at the sky in askance, as if looking for divine guidance to repair a sin he never commited.

"I'm sorry Albertous. I truly am." was all Bale could say. One deep breath later, and the old man smiled at him.

"Th' past is th' past m'boy. Fret not. And do give Ephi a wide berth on th' matter." Bale agreed and took some food. Albertous brought a small game board with him, announcing that he would teach Bale the age old game of 'Coral Reef'. Bale let his frustration fade as the old man made such embellishments about the royal nature of the games origins he couldn't help but smile, all the while thinking about the day he was to be released from the hospital.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN : I was having trouble tying up this section, but looks like Bale will finally get away from Stellara next chapter. I wonder where he'll end up next?**

Bale spent the next two weeks rotating his sunny days between the courtyard and his room, even coaxing a short trip to the market out of Ephalia. He could tell she was still upset during their trip, her features a mask of her usual genuine happiness, her smile a thin and brittle line to which Bale began to feel he had crossed. He tried to think of a way to bridge the gap as she was his primary caretaker, and Bale had no idea what was to become of him. He knew he wasn't going to stay, but that didn't make finding a solution to his friendship with the older woman any easier. He decided for the direct approach and asked her about Jep, as they ambled back into his hospital room.

"Who told you about him?" she asked sounding tired of the conversation they didn't even have yet. Bale told her about the conversation with Albertous, not mentioning that he also knew about her Fathers death. As he sat down, she pulled up a chair and rubbed her eyes as tears threatened.

"Jep was my... He was my all Bale." She leaned back looking older than when they met. "He was everything to me. Albertous is a good man, and was a good Father to Jep that's for sure. He never had to raise a hand to him. Mostly because Jep was pretty quick at keeping the hurtful things away from him, which was in a sense another reason why I loved him. He cared about how his Father saw him, and didn't want to break their bonds. Jep was going to be a great man." She closed her eyes, and scowled, holding back the pain. Her voice was so tight it made Bales heart hurt. "It was just a mistake. Jep had his foot in the wrong place at the right moment, and Albertous and I have been paying ever since."

Bale sat there as Ephalia wept openly. Footsteps from outside the door grew louder, and one of the other nurses appeared. She bundled Ephalia up in a small sweater, and led her from the room.

Night came on slowly as the guilt Bale felt burned away in his mind. He didn't want to eat, as if felt like a slap in Ephalia's face if he were to enjoy even the tiniest morsel. The Nurse who relieved Ephalia admonished his behaviour, and directed him to take care of himself, or else be stuck in the hospital. Begrudgingly he ate the food, knowing that getting well and getting out were the ultimate goals. That evening he had a snack from the jar he found, the briaroot (or whatever it was) tickling his tongue a little as the savoury spice made his mouth water. He tried not to have too much, noting that he may have find food and water through nefarious means if necessary once he was released. He checked the rest of his small cluster of assortments, and ensured that the sling was in good order before retiring for the night.

The next morning when Helispeth woke him, he asked about Ephalia, to which she replied that Ephalia was ill today, and that another nurse would attend him. Bale became concerned that his conversation with Ephalia was the reason she was ill, and hoped that Albertous would stop by so maybe he could convince the elder man to check on her. The day wore on and no such luck. Bale still felt a knot of anxious worry, not wanting to have anything bad happen to the woman. That evening he lay awake in bed thinking of what the next world would bring.

Midway through the next morning Albertous arrived with the Doctor following him into the room. Ephalia still wasn't there, and Bale held off on his request until the Doctor had finished his business with him.

"Well Bale you're time with us is up it seems. You'll be released early this afternoon." said the Doctor tapping his clipboard.

"Really? My chest doesn't feel normal." He said poking at his ribcage. Albertous chuckled from the window.

"Don't worry m'boy. You're as right as rain. If'n the Doctor says it, must be th' case." Bale nodded at the old man, and looked back to the Doctor.

"What about the Magistrate? He said he was going to make me stay." said Bale getting ready to force the issue of his entrapment. "Is he?" The Doctor looked at Bale, his arms crossed and a finger tapping his elbow, considering his words carefully.

"Bale the Magistrate does intend to find you lodgings this is true." He held up a hand as Bale sat up ready to protest, then continued. "However Albertous intervened on your behalf." Bales forehead betrayed his argumentative mood as it wrinkled slightly in confusion.

"I don't understand."

"You're t' stay with me boy. I told th' Magistrate tha' he was right. It would be suicide if we were t' send you off without so much as a by-your-leave. So I said I'd care for you, until we could properly outfit you." Albertous ran his fingers through his beard, picking at the knots. "I wouldn't want t' send you packin' without somethin' t' pack!" Bale was relieved, thinking the old man odd for taking in a relative stranger as he was, but realizing the time spent in conversations with him served as a more than ample introduction. Bale seemed satisfied enough to change the subject.

"All right Albertous. I'll stay with you until it's time." He scratched his head for a moment, and asked. "What happened to Ephalia?" The Doctor blew out his lips and looked at Albertous, unsure if he should speak to her effect. Albertous took the helm.

"She's sick m' boy. Heart sick." Bale wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but got the distinct impression that it wasn't something their medicines could fix. He nodded in affirmation and let the question die, promising himself to pick it back up again with the sailor.

That afternoon he was freed from the hospital. Albertous escorted him to a smallish home by the sea side, made of stone and roofed in by a planked wood roof. The chimney puffed out smoke as one of his crew men tended the fire. Albertous told Bale that his crew was always welcome in his home, and were usually around. Inside was a tidy living area, with all the amenities placed either neatly on shelves, or hanging from hooks on the ceiling. He opened a door just off the living area, and gestured for Bale to enter.

"I've been lookin' for a reason to use Jeps room." he ran his finger on a shelf, examining it for dust. "Looks like y' gave me th' reason."

"Thank you Albertous. I won't be here too long. Just long enough to make sure I'm ready for the next part of my journey." Bale looked at the old man, who put up a nervous smile, and then clapped him on the shoulder.

"Just long enough m' boy." He turned to address the young, stocky looking man tending the fire, while mending a small net, leaving Bale to wonder what was next.

Over the next few days Albertous took it on himself to teach Bale how to fish from shore, noting that getting a boat where ever he was bound might not be possible. He showed him how to make and repair netting using materials found most anywhere, as well as how to fish by hand line, string bobbers, and how to make hooks from bone. He also showed Bale how to tie knots, to which he was fascinated, never knowing that there were so many variations. In turn Bale helped cut wood, make food, and did some light chores. During breakfast he asked.

"Albertous. Is there any way I can see Ephalia before I go?" Albertous put down his cup of tea and regarded him with a critical eye.

"I don't know if tha' be a good idea." He began stroking his beard, to which Bale took as a sign that the man was deep in thought, considering all the options. "Maybe. I'll inquire as to if it's possible or not." Bale let the matter drop for now, understanding that it was a delicate problem, but not necessarily understanding what the problem was. He spent the day repairing a large net from the boat under the old man guidance, and retired to his bed with sore, burnt feeling fingers.

The next morning Albertous took Bale into town, to a small house similar to his own near the hospital. Knocking, he pulled his hat off his head and waited patiently. A young girl not much younger than Bale answered.

"Not t' bother y' Kinder, but is Ephi about? Young Bale would like a word." The young girl led them inside. In contrast to Albertous's neat but cluttered home, this house was sparsely furnished. A small table and two chairs occupied the large room with a bench near the stone fire place. Kinder softly tapped on a door near the back of the house and entered a room speaking softly. Albertous scanned about nervously, as if he was an intruder discovered. Bale was starting to feel the same.

Ephalia appeared wrapped in a long green coat. Her hair hung loose, and messy about her shoulders. She walked as one dead, shuffling and staring blankly at nothing in particular. Albertous cleared his throat, bringing her eyes to him.

"Ephi... Ah... Good morning to you." he said wringing his cloth hat in his hands. "Bale here was... ah... hoping t' have a word with y'." Bale stepped forward, feeling put on the spot. He admonished this thoughts though as it was his wish that had brought him there to begin with.

"Ephalia. Hello." He began. She looked at him.

"Hello Bale." she replied, her tones bereft of all emotion, like a rag totally wrung out.

"I just wanted to see you because I couldn't leave without saying good bye." Bale saw the hurt in her eyes. He wasn't sure why she had felt he needed to stay, only that maybe she saw helping to save him was like some sort of shot at redemption for not being to save her Father, or Jep. "You saved me, and for that I'm forever grateful." A tear rolled down her cheek at hearing the words, and Bale watched as she shuffled over to him looking through him. She gave him a hug, thanked him, and went back to the other room without so much as a word closing the door behind her. The trio could hear the weeping muffled by the shut portal.

"Come on Bale. Naught we can do here anymore." said Albertous. Looking at the young girl he said. "Give my regards to y' sister Kinder." Kinder nodded with a thin lipped smile, and shot Bale a look laced with venom. He hung his head low all the way back to the house, thinking he didn't deserve to feel this guilty. Albertous sat him down at the table, pushed a small cup of tea in front of him, and the two began to discuss the Bales impending departure.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN : I wasn't going to publish this today, but thanks to some reviews I was surprised by, that gave me a little heart to pump another one out. Enjoy!**

The next day Bale awoke to a solid breakfast of meats, fresh eggs, and fresh bread, which was something he hadn't smelled since leaving home. One of Albertous's crew was busy cooking away, as the old man sat in the corner stitching away at some leather. He spied Bale as he entered the room, greeting him in a jovial manner, although Bale could tell something was off. As he ate, more of the crew came through, greeting Albertous and chatting amongst themselves as Bale never got the chance to speak much to them.

"So I noticed y' use th' sling t' carry your essentials." said Albertous. "I've something for you." He held up the leather he was stitching, revealing it to be a knapsack. The needle he was using halfway through a strap retaining a piece of buckling. "This would work much better. Help keep th' book y' love dry." The brown leather had the look of being old but well cared for. Oil had been rubbed into it to keep it flexible and prevent cracking over time. The flap covering the main compartment had waves and birds pressed into it, as scene directly from the sea.

"Thank you Albertous. This is great."

"T'was m' sea bag. Used t' carry all my extras in't when I would go on m' voyages. I won't be out t' sea much more I'm afraid, so I figure it best it went t' a young man making his way." Albertous finished stitching the buckling up, and gave it a tug to test. He placed it on the table, and excused himself disappearing into his room, next to the one Bale was sleeping in. He returned with a small wooden box which he placed on the table next to the pack. "I want you t' have this as well."

Bale looked at the box, which was about as long as his forearm, and wide as his hand. He undid the brass clips on the side and took the top off. Inside were a set of rods, made to fit together, with eyelets set in one per piece. A large spool of fishing line was on a fixture meant to attach to a handle piece. "Albertous. I don't know what to say." Bale looked at the rod, seeing it was well kept and maintained, barely used from what he could garner.

"It's was Jeps. I taught him how t' fish with this." He sighed a little, and looked down at Bale. "He doesn't need it anymore, so I'll give it t' you." He sat down next to Bale and began his explanation of it's working and how to care for it. He also made it clear that this wasn't for sea side fish, but more for river and lake, which Bale committed to memory. The rest of the morning, Bale and Albertous gathered various things for him to take. He was given clean clothes, much nicer and sturdier than his old ones, various dried foods, and flint, and his water skin cleaned and filled, along with another one just in case. With the things he brought stowed in the pack, the fishing rod cased, and strapped in an outer pouch, Bale was ready to go. Albertous ambled along beside Bale to the edge of town out past the dock where Albertous's boat was tied up, his men roaming about the deck getting ready presumably for a trip out to open waters. The gate wasn't far from the docks, as Albertous explained that the people who built the town originally decided to stay close to the gate as it suited their needs to do so. They climbed up on to the small overhang where the gate was positioned, and Bale noted that the tides must having been washing the shore away as the pedestal where the console was was almost to the edge, with only enough space for a person to stand and operate it. Albertous didn't pay much mind to the rings themselves as he had seen them plenty of times throughout his life. Instead he concentrated on Bale.

"Listen Bale." He started, speaking a little louder over the sea winds. "If y' ever need to put in t' harbour for a time... Well... " He gestured nervously over his shoulder. Bale smiled understanding that the old man was nervous for him.

"Albertous you were the one who pulled me out of the waters. I'll never forget. And if I can, I'll come back and tell you where I've been." The old man nodded grimly. Bale looked at the book, opening it to the page he wanted, and quickly examined the symbols before pressing each one in sequence. The gate aligned and roared to life. Down the shore he noticed the men on the boat stop to watch the spectacle of the gate once again coming to life. "Goodbye Albertous. Tell Ephalia that I'll think of her."

"Fair winds follow y' boy." said Albertous as Bale disappeared through the shimmering light and into the unknown.

Once again, cold and light, and then like someone shoved him, he was out on the other side. The gate shutoff with a snap, leaving Bale in a forest. _Home?_ He looked about and couldn't make out his surroundings. Trees were all about taller than most he'd ever seen. There was a dampness in the air, and a low fog covering the ground creating an omnious atmosphere which sapped any curiosity he might have had, and replaced it with anxiousness. Through the foliage he could hear the various squawking of species native to the lands, and the crashing sounds of a river close by. A path of sorts lead away from the gate, out through the foggy landscape and through the ground covering vegetation. Not knowing what time of day it was he kept close to the gate until sundown, subsisting on the dried goods from his pack rather than attempt a trek and then lose the light. I wasn't long before night began to fall, and a fire was in order as the air became chilled, and Bale started to shiver. Finding dry anything to burn was a chore as well, but eventually he was able to build a small smokey fire that was enough to at least give him some warmth. The fire coupled with the blanket he figured would be enough, and he settled in for the night.

He awoke in very thin light to the sound of rustling and shouting. A growl came from one direction, then a cry from another. Flashes of light were coupled with popping, bursting sounds as something snapped past overhead, leaves and bushes shedding some of their greenery from an outside force. Bale stood and pulled his knife out and held it before him, when out of the bushes something crashed into him, knocking Bale to the ground. A man rolled to his feet and caught Bales eye giving a murderous glare. The man looked about the ground and picked up something pointing it directly at Bale.

"GET DOWN!" he shouted. Bale complied as the thing in the mans hand flashed brightly, and a cracking sound whipped past Bales shoulder. Suddenly finding himself screaming he grabbed his knife and blanket in one arm, and his pack in the other and ran to the pedestal. He hid in behind it, when the man appeared beside him crouching down and pointing his weapon. Bale looked back trying to focus his eyes in the dimness, and saw a corpse slumped over where his fire was. More rustling from the same general direction, then a flash of white energy leapt from behind a tree, striking the console. The man discharged his weapon again, the blast nearly deafening, but over the ringing in his ears Bale heard the cry and grunt of another person, presumably now wounded or dying. "Do you know how to use this thing?" the man asked him, scanning the bushes. Bale nodded, his vocal cords capable of only fearful screams at this point. "Well use it dammit! Let's get out of here before the..." He shot at something else,"... before the Wraith get us!"

Bale thought about taking the book out of his pack, but realized that he wouldn't be able to see the marks even if he did. He opted for a more random approach at the behest of his fear. Reaching over the rim of the console, he slapped different spots seven times, and hit the dome. The rings started to align, and then stopped. The man fired again at someone, and hearing the gate cease working, looked at Bale.

"What did you do?!" he yelled as another flash zipped by, then another.

"I don't know!" Bale yelled back frightened. "It's never done this before." A blast of energy flashed by, putting his hair on end.

"Well try again!" the man yelled. Bale reached over and slapped another seven spots, and hit the dome once more. This time the gate came to life, and opened stabilizing, casting its light into the surrounding forest. Looking about Bale shuddered. Wraith were everywhere. Many were like the ones he had killed, with their grotesque masks covering their faces. The were a few who wore long black leather coats, their skin in stark contrast as it almost had a luminescent quality in the shimmering light. They wore no masks, but rather had faces similar to a humans, although their teeth appeared black and rotten looking. Bale made to run, clutching his belongings, when the man grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him through the portal.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN : This is a short one as I felt the end of it would be a good stepping off point for CH11. Hope this is living up to your expectations!**

Bale tumbled out on the other side, rolling down a set of stone stairs and coming to a stop the bottom. In the cascading light of the gate he sat up to see the man who threw him through emerge at a run. He ran to the pedestal, and hit the controls, effectively shutting down the portal. Bale looked around, realizing he was in another forest, which as he stood and rubbed the pain from his soon to be bruised arms, he pondered if all gates were in similar places. The man was hunched over the console, catching his breath, when he turned his eyes to Bale.

"Sorry about that boy." he said standing up, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I didn't think you'd want to stay with that bunch of killers." The man wore a dirty canvas shirt, the brown stains on it nearly matching his shoulder length matted hair. One arm was covered in metallic plates, like a part of some armour, that was secured with leather straps over his shoulder and torso. His pants were a kind of leather, and in a state of badly needed repair. His weapon was in his hands, with a long leather strap looped in such away as to carry it. Any exposed skin that Bale could see had scars, including his face. Bale stood silently trying to figure out what to say, and the man started to look tired and nervous all at once. "Well..." he began, gesturing at the trees around them,"... no place like home right. Thanks for your help boy." The man started to walk off, heading for what looked like the start of a path.

"Wait!" shouted Bale, surprising himself at the volume. "Where are you going?" The man didn't even look over his shoulder.

"Away from the gate. Maybe find some food."

"We should stick together!" Bale's mind suddenly switched to suspicion after making the statement. He didn't know this man, and it was obvious that the Wraith were after him if the number of them pursuing him was any indication. He could be dangerous.

"You'll be better off on your own boy." said the man disappearing into the woods. Quickly Bale gathered his things and threw his pack on. He ran into the woods, seeing that the man was already a good distance off, becoming obscured by the leafy low foliage. The ground was uneven and soft, making going rough as he climbed over deadfall, or plowed through bushes, and around trees. The 'path' wasn't much of one at all from what he could tell, or at the very least hadn't been used in a very long time. As Bale bashed on through the greenery, he heard a snap sound, and was suddenly cased up in a large rough net, shouting in surprise. Several feet above the ground, he hung captive in a large net, bobbing from a pulley set into a very large branch. He was so tangled that his arms hooked on everything, and the angle that he was hanging at made moving more difficult.

"Help!" he yelled, alternately hoping for, and dreading assistance. As he struggled he heard rustling below him, and couldn't see who or what was there.

"You really know how to get into trouble don't you kid." said the man below sarcastically. "Hold on." After a minute or two, Bale was falling. The tension of the net relaxed as he crashed into the ground, dropping over top of him. The man helped him get untangled, and then stood there as Bale finished the job, looking around, or rather through the undergrowth. "Better?"

"Yes." said Bale picking a leaf out of his collar. "Thank you."

"Alright then. Stay out of trouble." Once again he began to walk off. Bale stood up and trailed after him calling for the man to stop. "Look kid, when I said you were better off on your own I wasn't joking around."

"Is it because the Wraith are after you?" asked Bale rushing to catch up to the mans long stride.

"Yeah, that's part of it. That and I'm not good around children alright?" He got back on to the path and took a look, determining the direction he wanted to go in.

"You could at least tell me your name!" shouted Bale as he stepped into soft ground, getting his foot stuck a little in the mud. He saw the man turn, exasperated.

"Tremaine. Alright? Tremaine Prell. Now would you please stop shouting." Bale pulled his foot free, a small happiness at seeing his shoe was still on his foot, and set off again following Tremaine. He eventually caught up with him just as the forest broke into small clearing. At the far side was a village, smoke rising from chimneys atop well constructed buildings. At one end they could see a large wheel, it apex turning visibly past the rooftops, which Bale presumed was a mill of sorts, and likely a river. He looked at Tremaine, who observed the activity he could see, some villagers working in garden patches, a man chopping wood, and so forth. His expression was worrisome.

"What's wrong?" asked Bale, viewing the scene as if it was something like home. Normal people doing normal everyday work to make it to the next day. A pang of homesickness hit him.

"I don't like people I don't know." Bale caught the double meaning, and pressed a little.

"Well how do you know you don't like them until you meet them?" With that he started walking across the clearing. Tremaine came up behind him after a moment, and asked his name, to which Bale gave it.

"Well Bale, whatever we find here I won't be staying long." said Tremaine, looking about as if something was going to jump up at them. Bale was suddenly annoyed at his new companion, and shot him a small sidelong look as they walked. He noticed that the man chopping wood had stopped and was watching them. Also the people tending their garden had mostly ceased working as well. A woman in a dark blue dress walked across the field to intercept them. As she approached Bale stuck a hand up in greeting, as it was clear that Tremaine wasn't going to say anything.

"Hello. My name is Bale, and this is my friend Tremaine Prell. We're travelers hoping to find lodging for the night." Out of the corner of his eye he caught a surprised expression from Tremaine, unsure as to why. The lady, a long blonde braid hanging from out under a blue kerchief, put a dirty hand on her breast and bowed. "My name is Katy. This is the village of Trom, as small as it is. Are you from one of the other villages over the mountains?" Before Bale could answer Tremaine jumped in.

"Yes. We're from a small village also, just past the mountains." Bale didn't say anything, waiting for the whole thing to play out. He decided to confront Tremaine about it later. Katy looked at the two of them, and just nodded her head a little.

"As you wish. Trom has a small inn that would suit your needs if you like. If you have no way to pay, I'm sure our headman could come up with a bargain for you for food and lodging." She turned and began to walk, expecting the two to follow from what Bale could garner. He looked at Tremaine clear on his face that he was confused and annoyed by the lie.

"Trust me kid. This isn't as good as it looks."


	11. Chapter 11

Katy led them through the small village, which to Bale seemed a rather subdued place. He noticed as they walked that Tremaine seemed rather uneasy, looking sideways at people as the passed, and peering into doorways. The villagers walked by, each one taking a look at the pair as if they were some anomaly, which Bale was beginning to feel like. The inn was only two floors, and seemed to be about the size of a small barn, but it was a place out of the weather if need be. They entered, finding the common room empty, save a fat man behind the bar polishing some silverware. He watched them as the trio stood before the bar, his eye wary for anything untoward.

"Antonus, we have visitors it seems who require food and a roof for a time." said Katy. Introductions were made, and the man inquired as to how long they would be staying. Tremaine spoke up first.

"Only a day, maybe two. We're on a long journey." Bale watched as Antonus scratched the balding spot on top of his head.

"Well, we do need some wood cut for the winter as well as help moving some stone for the new pilings were building our dock with. Don't suppose you're adverse to hard work?"

"No sir. We can certainly help with either of those tasks. I'm sure young Bale would help you with the wood, while I attend to helping move stone for the time were here." replied Tremaine. Bale nodded keeping up appearances, but inside was lamenting the idea of swinging an axe for a day or so. Antonus spit in his palm and stuck his hand out to Tremaine, who promptly did the same. Bale had never before seen the like of a deal sealed in this manner, but paid it no more thought.

As the day came to a close, Antonus prepared them a modest meal, which Tremaine didn't eat until Bale was well into his own. He kept checking his firearm, a three barreled shotgun, ensuring it was in working condition and ready to go at a moments notice. Bale asked him why he was acting funny.

"How would you know if I was?" asked Tremaine, starting to pick at his food.

"Well I saw how you were looking at everything when we got here, and also that lie you told about being from another village." He chewed thoughtfully on a piece of meat and then continued. "Why'd you do that?" Tremaine looked about the room ensuring that it was still empty.

"Look kid. I've been a lot of places, and most never look like what they actually are."

"I don't think these people are going to kill us." said Bale.

"You keep thinking that." Tremaine stuffed something akin to a potato in is mouth, and chewed. "Besides these people don't know where we've come from, what we're all about, or what we've seen. They have no idea how bad it is beyond the gate I'm assuming." Bale could see the man getting frustrated as he spoke. "Besides I've been to enough worlds with enough villages that looked enough like this to make me uneasy." Bale took that as his cue.

"Have you ever been to Ariannia?" he asked, looking at his plate.

"Never heard of it." Bale nodded, knowing how much chance would play into his journey to get home. He asked another about another place. "Atlantis?" Tremaine sat up looking at Bale, confused. "Why by the blue sky would you want to go there?"

"Have you been there or not?" demanded Bale, his own frustration becoming apparent.

"Never. I've only heard of it in my travels." They finished their meal in silence, and retired to a room with two beds, led by the in keeper holding a candle up to light the way. Bale listened to the nighttime sounds of the village, finding sleep elusive, even in the dark room as quiet as it was. He also had the distinct impression that Tremaine was still awake, but couldn't see to confirm it. So he lay there with his own thoughts, imagining what was happening at home since he left. Probably the same old routines as Pell always had: farming, baking, cutting wood. Much like this place he thought, a sleepy little village with its own brand of living. He also wondered if his parents missed him, the thought bringing a tear to his eye as he lay there in the dark. Rolling over, he could hear Tremaine breathing rhythmically across the room, which helped to put him under the spell of slumber.

He awoke to the sound of rapping at the door. Wiping the crusts from his bleary eyes, he saw Tremaine, eyes half open with his weapon propped on his stomach, the muzzle held low enough that he was clear of injury, and had a clear shot at the door.

"Come in!" said Bale, curious of the other mans manner. The inn keeper came, and seeing Tremaine laying there visibly tensed.

"Ah... I brought some breakfast." was all he could muster, holding the tray up. Tremaine nudged his head toward the table, and pointed his shotgun in a more polite area away from the inn keeper. "So when you're finished Bale, I'll show you where we get the wood, and where the splitting block is at." Another quick look at the shotgun, and then Tremaine who just stared back, blank faced. "Well I'll just leave you to it then." Which he did, shutting the door gently behind him.

"He seemed nervous." was all he said. Bale shook his head and moved to wash his hands with a small basin and pitcher. They ate quickly and silently, Tremaine not taking his eyes off the food, while Bale tore into it. After a minute or so the older man started to eat, which led Bale to pose the question.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" said Tremaine breaking bread.

"You wait for me to eat first. What are you waiting for?"

"To see if it's poisoned." The flat tone of the answer made Bale stop chewing and look at his food for a moment.

"Would it be?" asked Bale. Tremaine shrugged in return, and said nothing more about it. Once finished Bale stood up to go down to the inn keeper. Tremaine grabbed his arm before he could step away from the table, holding it firmly and looked him in the eye,

"Two things kid. First take your pack with you. Always. And second..." he shut his eyes, "...second, if anything happens you get to the gate. You don't look back. Understand?" Bale had never felt as dire a warning as this in his life. He nodded, and Tremaine let go, saying he would see him later maybe. Bale grabbed his pack and took his dishes down to the bar, rubbing his arm with his free hand. Antonus seemed amicable enough, not mentioning anything about Tremaine or the weapon. He took him down a small dirt road, showing him a hand cart that could be filled with wood from the pile next to it. Behind the inn was where the chopping block was located, along with a small shed for storing the split wood. He placed his pack into the cart and began his task of loading, hauling, chopping and stacking. Midday came and Antonus brought the sweat soaked boy some food to lunch with, placing a tray heaped with a slab of meat, several vegetables, and a mug of a frothy looking drink that smelled similar to what his Father would drink in the long house on occasion. Antonous sat down on an old bench that was worn from harsh treatment, warming himself in the midday sunlight.

"You never did say where you were from. Katy said you're from beyond the mountain range." Bale wasn't sure what to make of his question. Instead he just concentrated on eating, as quickly as he could. "I'm from over the mountain myself. You wouldn't happen to be from the township of Hummel would you?" Bale shook his head, his mouth full of food, and the warning the Tremaine had given him suddenly sprang to mind. He decided to keep the talk light, while he placed more food in his mouth.

"I haven't heard too many birds here. Is there a reason for that?" he asked. Antonus shrugged, playing the non-committal card as well. "I noticed that the last few days. Seems odd."

"Yes well... They migrate a bit around this time of year." The inn keeper began scratching his balding patch.

"Indeed." Bale then inquired how much wood it would take to heat the inn for the winter trying to divert the conversation. He succeeded and finished his meal, thanking Antonus before latching on to the cart and heading for the wood pile down the road, leaving the fat man watching him for a brief moment. Bale was beginning to get uneasy, but the feeling was soon eclipsed by sore muscles.

When the sun went down, Bale sat in the common room slowly eating his supper, when Tremaine walked in, his shotgun slung on his shoulder, and his armour carried in one hand. Antonus greeted him in a jovial manner, glacing nervously at the weapon, and handed him a plate of food and a large flagon of ale, which Tremaine asked to be replaced with water. The inn keeper complied and pushed the fare towards him, who took it and sat down at the table with Bale.

"How was it?" He asked, draping the metal plates across his lap, settling in.

"I'm sore. I must have chopped a lot of wood." He pushed more food in, talking with his mouth full. "More than I ever would have at home." Tremaine smiled and started eating.

"It'll be worse tomorrow." he remarked, drawing a groan of despair from Bale. They finished up, and retired to their room. This time Bale had started a candle so he would at least have some light to look at his book. He caught the attention of his roommate.

"What's that?"

"A book I found when I got lost." He sat at the table flipping the pages, looking for the one he had decided on when he left Stellara. Once found he pulled a thread from the blanket on his bed, and marked the page with it. Tremaine got up, looking over his shoulder in the dim candle light seeing the gate symbols and the accompanying script. He reached down and traced a line with his finger. Bale looked up in surprise.

"You know what it says!?" Tremaine looked at him as if interrupted from a fine meal, then shrugged.

"I recognize some of it." He sat down on his bed, his face clearly showing his mind at work. "It was a very, very long time ago."

"Well if you can read it," began Bale enthusiastically, "maybe you can help me figure out where all these places are!" Now Tremaine looked annoyed, glowering at the boy.

"I recognize some of it, but I can't read it fully." He lay back, and checked his shotgun laying next to him on the bed. "Besides I'd need a year to come close to understanding what's in there. I can barely read my own language, let alone theirs."

"Who are they?" Bale asked. "Maybe we can find one of them to help me!"

"You'd sooner have luck finding paradise boy. The people who wrote that book are all dead. The majority of them anyway." Bale looked at the volume, the symbols neatly scribed on the pages with care. There were no ornate designs, but the hand that wrote it cared enough not to smudge ink, or tear anything.

"Well who did write it?" asked Bale. Tremaine closed his eyes.

"That book belongs to a Satedan."


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning the two of them ate breakfast together, this time with less intimidation towards Antonus. Bale wondered aloud about Sateda, but Tremaine was having none of it, looking at his food with a sense of deep thought surrounding him. They went to their morning tasks without talking to each other too much, leaving Bale to wonder what was on the mans mind. As he put the first log of wood into the cart, he could feel the aches of the previous day screaming in his back and arms. He had never been so sore, and cursed himself for not being tougher. The skies had turned gray, and it was apparent that the weather wasn't going to hold. He decided to get on with his task, trying not to pay any mind to the pain he was in. Tremaine and a group of village men passed by him on the path to where ever the stones were gathered. He gave Bale a look of concern, which made the young man more confused as to their relationship. Tremaine didn't appear to want him around, but had given advice someone would not normally give to a stranger. He pushed the thoughts from his mind, knowing that he had no idea about the kind of past Tremaine had, or what kind of person he was.

Midday came again, and Antonus brought him out his lunch, sitting once again on the bench watching Bale as he readied himself to eat.

"Storms coming it appears." said Antonus. "We need it. Rains just haven't been coming like they should." Bale looked at the fare on his plate. The bread was fresh from the oven, still steaming making Bales mouth water slightly, as did the hot meat and vegetables. He took a pull from the flagon that was placed next to the food, trying not to engage in too much conversation.

"It's been that dry here has it?" asked Bale, trying to keep the conversation neutral.

"It's been better that's for sure. Was there much rain near the mountains?" asked Antonus. _There it is_ thought Bale, beginning to chew on a piece of meat.

"About the same." was all he offered up. He tried to eat as quickly as he could, limiting the conversation to shrugs, nods, and the occasional comment, but nothing further. Antonus seemed jovial, with a feeling behind it that Bale couldn't put his finger on. The fat man eventually gathered up the dishes and left Bale to his task.

As evening began to come on, Bale finished swinging the axe for the last time. His muscles seemed to be less sore than earlier, but he wondered if that was just a trick of the mind and body. Gathering the logs he went to stack them in the shed while he could still see. With the light dimming, the shed was cast in darker shadows, making it difficult to see where he should place the wood. As he stepped in, someone grabbed him from behind, slipping their arms under his and spinning him around, pinning him against the wall. A dark cloth bag was slipped over his head and tied under his chin, making it impossible for him to see anything. Another set of hands entered the picture as he was picked up, struggling against strong assailants. He could tell he was moved just outside the shed, where hushed conversation was made by a trio of men. The third man grabbed his arms and tied them up, almost pleading with Bale.

"Don't struggle it won't do any good." The rope pinched off the circulation to his hands, making them feel puffy and numb. His legs were next. "It'll be quick boy. I promise." Once done, the other two men picked him up, and dropped him in the back of the wood cart. They didn't pull it very far, and Bale guessed that they ended up on the road in front of the inn. He could hear Antonus speak with the one of his captors.

"You got the boy. Good. Just put his bag on the bar." he heard Antonus start. "Bellamee said the other one got away."

"Do we know where he went?" asked the unknown man.

"No. Hume and Fithe both got injured too. That one is dangerous." Bale could hear the man scratching his head. "Maybe more danger than he's worth." From a distance he could hear a party of people approaching, shouting for the inn keeper. Unable to discern the state of things, Bale could only listen as Antonus addressed them.

"He got away through the gate!" shouted another voice. "By the time we got there it had shutdown, and he was gone."

"Very well. We still have the one. Take him to the mill and shackle him down. He'll make a good offering. They like the young ones it seems." said Antonus. Suddenly he could feel the cart moving once more, heading off into the night. After what felt like several minutes, the cart stopped, and once again he was handled into place by several unseen hands. He could feel cold iron being wrapped around his wrists and ankles, then heard the click of a lock. The rope holding his hands and feet tied were released, then the bag was unlaced, and pulled from his head, revealing the a small stone walled room aglow with lantern light. The man holding the bag was unfamiliar, as were the rest standing away from him near the doorway. The lot of them had a grimness about themselves, as if forced into unsavoury acts. The bag man addressed him.

"We didn't want it to happen this way." Bale looked at his chains, and gave a forceful tug testing their security. He felt lucky that it was only his arms that were shackled to the floor, and right away the thought seemed overly optimistic.

"Then let me go!" Bale shouted, hearing his own desperation.

"Can't do it boy. Our masters would... We can't." The bag man stepped beyond the doorway, taking the lantern with him, leaving cold shadows surrounding him. From the door way the man said "I'm sorry.", and shut the door, leaving Bale in darkness. He could feel tears starting, and got angry at himself for showing weakness. Whatever was to become of him, he needed to be strong. His thoughts drifted to Tremaine, and he felt the sting of abandonment. Tremaine had shown his true self by running, which made Bale more angry at the fact that he had trusted the man. If not to help him get some then at least as a travelling companion. Bale wiped the now angry tears from his eyes, hearing the clinking of iron links holding him to stone. _What did I expect? I was a fool for thinking I could trust someone I barely knew._ Bale drew his knees up under his chin, and lay his head on them, trying to think of a way out. Instead he fell asleep with cold, damp cheeks alone in the darkness.

He woke the same way he fell asleep: in darkness and alone. This time there was a sound outside the walls that he could barely hear. After a moment there was the sound of footsteps outside the door, and then the latch snapped back. In the doorway was a figure shrouded in darkness.

"Bale?" asked Tremaine, trying to see into the dark room. Before Bale could shout in surprise, he heard the man shushing him. "Can you move? Did they drug you at all?"

"No." said Bale in a low voice. "But I'm chained up."

"Ok. Hold on a moment." The shade that was Tremaine disappeared from the dark doorway, then returned a moment later. "There's no key on the guards, and I don't have a lock pick." Bale could feel the chains go taught for a second, then "No choice. Plug your ears." Bale complied stuffing his finger tips in just in time. A flash and bang, and then another and the chains were loose. Bale stood up feeling the long chains dangling from his wrists. He wrapped them around his forearms as best he could, tucking links underneath themselves so they wouldn't come loose easily. He followed Tremaine outside into dim morning light, the skies still overcast. "We have to make it to the gate quickly, before someone finds the headman." Bale looked at two men laying on the ground unconscious.

"Did you kill them?" He asked suddenly uneasy.

"No. But if we stick around they might wake up. Come on!" hissed Tremaine. They ran out along the pathway, then cut across the far edge of the field when they saw the edge of the town further down. When they hit the treeline at the far side, Tremaine stopped and looked about for something. Bale watched the field for any one pursuing them, and seeing no one turned his attention to Tremaine.

"Antonus said I was to be some kind of offering." Tremaine didn't stop pulling bushes aside, desperately looking for something.

"It's worse than I thought." He spied what he was looking for and quickly walked toward it. "When we got here I thought these people seemed off. I was thinking it was more like some kind of inter-village dispute, maybe some local paranoia about strangers." He pulled back the branches on a large leafy bush, revealing Bales pack. He picked it up and flung it to him, and then started walking again. Bale had to run to catch up, made more difficult by trying to fit chain laden arms through the straps.

"How did you get my pack back?" Bale asked.

"Antonus gave it up unwillingly." said Tremaine. Bale got the distinct impression that violence was involved, and let it drop, even though his curiosity wasn't sated. Quickly tromping over uneven ground, they avoided two traps, which Tremaine stated was a good thing. Catching his meaning, within a minute they had come to the clearing where the gate stood, shadowed even with the gray sky lightening up as the sun rose. Walking towards the console, the gate started springing to life, symbols slowly rotating into position. Tremaine wasted no time. He turned picked up Bale over his shoulder pack and all, and ran back into the woods, jumping into a culvert behind a log. So quick was he that it amazed Bale, who just gawked for a moment, only to be brought back to reality by the whooshing sound of the gate. The grayness of the day seemed to subdue the bright twinkling of the gate surface. Tremaine and Bale both peered over the log, waiting for someone to come through. Much to their horror the Wraith appeared. Tremaine shoved Bales head below the log, not taking his own eyes off the clearing. His voice went to a whisper.

"Clear your mind. Think of nothing but the forest. Trees and leaves. Moss." Bale did as he was told, having no clue why. He thought of the greenery, and of how the ground felt, heeding the urgency of the mans tone. Tremaine watched as the lead Wraith directed two guards to stay at the gate, and took two more with him, heading towards the village, his long black coat billowing as he turned. After a few minutes, Tremaine whispered "Get your book out and figure out where we're going next. Quietly. I'll be back in soon."

The large man slipped away, using the rising and falling of the ground to keep the guards from seeing him. Bale pulled the book out from his pack, trying desperately to make very little noise. He opened it, and picked a page with as much writing as he could, wishing he could read the Satedan script. He peeked over top the log, seeing the two guards looking through the undergrowth. Bale wondered how they could see through those hideous masks they wore, but had his thoughts cut short when Tremaine burst through the undergrowth on the far side, grabbing the closest Wraith. He snapped his neck with deft hands, the sound reverberating in the forest. The other whirled to meet him, it's weapon up. A blast of light blue energy leapt from the tip, barely missing Tremaine, who grabbed the dead Wraiths own. A second blast and another near miss, when Tremaine fired his catching the Wraith in the chest. Firing again he hit the guard once more, its body crumpling to the ground. Bale slung his pack over one shoulder and stood up with book in hand. Tremaine waved as he saw him, and they met at the console.

"That was amazing!" said Bale over awed at the mans abilities.

"Hero worship later kid. Where are we going?" said Tremaine sounding suddenly tired. Bale flipped the book open revealing the address inscribed at the top of the page.

"Any idea where this goes?" Tremaine squinted, trying to fathom the words on the page.

"Not sure. I recognize the word 'dry' and 'wind', but that's it." He began pushing the symbols, and remarked with cynicism "Anywhere's better than here." He slapped the dome, and the gate sprang to life. Once opened he told Bale to put the book away quickly, all the while he watched to make sure no one was coming back. Bale slung the pack properly and nodded.

"Let's go." said Bale running for the shimmering light, hoping the next place wouldn't have so many surprises.


	13. Chapter 13

The far side of the gate had a place that Bale had never dreamed about, and that Tremaine immediately wished he had never arrived to. They went from the blinding light of their reformation into living beings as they came out, to the equally blinding light of full sun on the scorching sands of a vast desert. Standing in front of the gate he could feel the heat radiating from the parched desert landscape, as rays reflected on his skin. The gate shutdown once the two had arrived, making Tremaine pensive.

"Do you see anything?" asked Bale shielding his eyes from the blinding light. Tremaine scanned the horizon, only seeing dunes.

"No. There's nothing here." He saw a large dune in one direction that obstructed his view, and kept it in his mind. "This doesn't look like a welcoming place Bale."

"Yeah." was all Bale said, feeling his eyes starting to hurt. Tremaine descended the stone stairs from the platform the gate was atop, and headed for the console which was partly buried in the sand.

"Oh... DAMMIT!" Tremaine shouted leaning over the console. Bale ran to his side to see what the problem was. Once there his heart sank, and he broke out in a cold sweat which immediately evaporated. The console was smashed. Several buttons were broken and missing with large burn marks scorched deep into others. The crimson dome was shattered revealing crystals inside, some which appeared burnt as well. Any fragments that might have been left, Bale realized, had likely been swept away by the sands over time, although he wasn't sure how. Now he had to ask the question, already knowing the answer.

"Can it be fixed?" Tremaine looked at him as if he was some sort of mad man.

"No kid. That's ruined. We're stuck here until someone uses the gate from elsewhere, or they come in ships." Bale looked about once again, not understanding how a boat might traverse the desert, and Tremaine seeing his confused look, just waved him off in frustration. "I'm going up there." He said pointing to the large dune he saw earlier. "You stay here, in case someone comes through." Bale watched the man walk in the direction of the rise, wondering how long it would take for him to get there and return. The sun seemed barely to move overhead, and Bale decided to use his blanket to make a small shelter from the heat. The shade underneath seemed to give little respite as the heat from around him blazed away.

After what seemed like hours, the sun had barely crawled along and a breeze had started, which to Bale seemed a cruel joke as it seemed hotter than just the sun and desert. He could see Tremaine in the distance, barely a speck climbing to the top of what must be a huge mountain of sand. His eyes would hurt, and Bale would close them momentarily, feeling the grit of vapourized tears leaving nothing but the salts of his body on his eyelids. His thirst was growing, and he had a sip from one of the water skins that was filled days ago, tasting the odd flavours of water long stored. The urge to keep drinking suddenly hit him, but he resisted knowing that he'd need to give some to Tremaine once he got back.

He watched Tremaine crest the top of the dune, nothing more than a tiny dot atop a wave of shifting brown and tan. Looking something seemed odd, as Tremaine appeared to be jumping, maybe waving but Bale couldn't be sure. _Maybe he's trying to get my attention. But if I leave the gate, what if someone comes through?_ He pondered those thoughts for a while as he watched Tremaine start to move back down the dune. _Better that I wait here._

Hours once more, and down by half of his first water skin, the sun had finally started to crawl towards the edge of the world. The sky had turned to a lavender colour, a hue which Bale had never experience before. The heat nonetheless was unrelenting. Eventually Bale saw Tremaine coming towards the gate, dragging his feet as if worn out completely. Even at a distance he could see his companion was red from the heat, and looked to be as parched as the sands they stood upon. Bale got up and ran to him with the second full water skin. He placed himself under the mans shoulder trying to support his full grown weight, making Bale realize how much more growing he had to do himself. One long pull off the water skin, and Tremaine told him what he saw.

"A ship." he rasped, drinking once more. "A huge ship. Crashed beyond the dune."

Bale helped him walk to his little shady spot, and lay him down in the gritty dirt. The breeze had been getting slowly stronger during the day, and began to kick up only the smallest grains of sand. Tremaine propped himself against the console, drinking the skin near dry, saving a few mouthfuls. Bale was hoping he would have drank less, but decided on the spot that mourning the use of their water was of little value.

"How long will it take to get there?" asked Bale, concerned that Tremaine was going to be unable to walk.

"It's twice as far from the gate as I went at least. All desert." He lay there breathing heavily, and coughing a little. Bale thought about how they could get there, and wondered if they could travel at night, if night ever came. Tremaine echoed his thoughts. "We should wait a few more hours, and try and sleep a little. The sun will still be up when we leave I'm sure." Tremaine took a moment to remove his armour, placing it down beside himself. The blanket wasn't big enough to cover both of them fully, so Bale opted to let the man rest underneath it without fuss. He took up a strip of shade from the damaged console sticking out of the sands, and tried to sleep but found it elusive. His thoughts turned to home, and he considered the life he had there in comparison to the journey he was on. His little bed in the home he shared with his parents, as well as the days spent labouring in the fields, or splitting wood, to which many of the less than adventurous tasks seemed so distant. Closing his eyes, he thought about the harvest, and the festivities surrounding that. His Mother would sing with other village women, and his Father would have too much ale. He smiled at the thought of all the happy people of the village coming together to celebrate their mutual victory of survival for another year. His eyes opened, and seeing the vast expanse of dry nothingness sapped any beautiful memories away, like his tears drying in the heat.

He was sure the sunlight was low enough, as the skies had turned from lavender to a deeper purple. The ball of fiery light was hanging above the edge of the world, hanging there as if defying natural law. Bale crawled under the makeshift shelter and shook Tremaine. He could see his face was blistered, and burnt, and his skin hot to the touch as he put a hand on the mans forehead. Bale shook him again, and Tremaine started, grabbing his shotgun and pointing it directly at Bales head, a look of panicked rage suddenly on his face. The look softened as he realized who he was with, and he lowered the weapon slowly. Bale waited a moment trying not to make any sudden moves, slowly backed out from under the blanket, and stood.

"It's time we started." said Bale, shaken by the mans reaction. Tremaine slowly pulled himself out, and stood as well, moving stiffly. He wobbled a little on his feet, and clutched his head. Blinking hard, he grabbed Bale by the shoulder to steady himself, and shook his head. It was obvious to Bale that the days heat had sapped the bigger man. A sense of regret at not going with him earlier washed over him.

"Ok. Anymore water before we go?" asked Tremaine. Bale sighed and gave him the last of the water from the skin he had given him earlier. The other one he decided was for later. Bale packed up the blanket quickly, and threw on his pack. The wind was stronger once again, and the sand was getting kicked up in small clouds close to the ground. Bale could feel the grit getting stuck in his shoes but ignored it as they set off.

It took hours, but the sun never settled below the horizon. If anything the sky stayed a deep purple the whole time they made the trek. Much to their relief the temperature had dropped quickly, but eventually became uncomfortably cool, a terrible contrast to the heat of the day. In certain spots the sand made walking more than a little difficult, as Bale would sink part way up his shin for short stretches, sometimes needing Tremaines help to pull him along. Tremaine shuffled along, but didn't speak very much, reserving what little energy he had to keep walking rather than waste it on useless words. Climbing the massive dune was treacherous, as Bale had to learn to dig in, and almost scuttle his way to the top. The sand gave way many times making the climb that much more arduous, as he would drop several feet, his body getting coated with sand and grit. Eventually though the pair made it to the top, and even in the dim violet darkness the view took his breath away.

Out across the sands, silhouetted against the purple and brown horizon was a massive structure. Bale imagined that what was once a smooth surface interspersed with various man made blemishes, was now a jagged behemoth sticking out of the sands. A massive split ran from one side of it to the other, as if a thousand axes had split it open. He could see beams, and plates jutting out in the massive gash, making the split as if a gigantic mouth waiting to devour helpless passersby. Debris was scattered on the ground next to the hulking wreck, suggesting its long absence of inhabitants. Bale was over awed.

"There it is." said Tremaine, panting dryly. "If we can make it there we have a chance."

"It's... It's incredible." said Bale, just above a whisper. Tremaine managed a small smile at the young mans wide eyed stare.

"Come on. Maybe our luck will change for once." he said, and began sliding down the dune. Bale could barely tear his eyes away from the gigantic thing he was seeing, but followed in Tremaines wake in awed silence.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN : Now that I know what's going to happen for the next few chapters, I promise that it'll be worth the wait. Please if you're reading "The Long Way Home", review it so I know what kind of job I'm doing. Thanks and enjoy! :D**

The sun still hung above the horizon as if the landscape was frozen in time. The winds were becoming stronger still, making seeing anything progressively more difficult as the pair trudged on. At one point Bale had jokingly remarked that he couldn't go any further, his childish commentary seeming to fall on deaf ears. Tremaine didn't stop moving, his head down pushing forward as if against an unseen force. The grit that the wind kicked up started to invade every crevasse of their bodies, every motion a friction filled hell of sore spots, and soon to be worn away skin. Bale could barely keep his eyes on Tremaine as the pair dragged themselves across the desert. It was a long time walking with eyes shielded against the gentle illumination of the blowing desert sands, when Bale bumped into Tremaine. The wind had kicked up enough sand that everything was a blur of tan, making anything more than a few strides away impossible to see. Tremaine appeared to be looking up at something, which Bale wondered how the man wasn't losing his eyeballs to the churning abrasion. Peering through nearly closed fingers across his eyes, he could see irregular shapes surrounding them, and a large dark mass taking up the view beyond. Amazed, Bale realized they had made it to the ship. He looked back to Tremaine, who appeared to wobble on his feet.

"Tremaine?" Bale nearly had to shout over the wind, tasting the dirt filling his mouth. Tremaine appeared to mumble something, then fell to his knees. "Hey! Tremaine get up! We're here!" shouted Bale, unsure if the man could hear him. Tremaine fell over kicking up more sand much to Bales disbelief. He began to panic, his heart racing at the thought of being left alone in such a hostile place, with almost no water, so far from home. The wind seemed to echo his lamenting, as if cursing Bale through cruel gritty tears at the disturbance of it solitary landscape. Bale felt a tear, and only a tear as he had no water left to give from his body, turn to mud and smear across his face. The wind kicked up to a gusting howl, and over the noise and dirt in his ears he could hear the creaking and hollow howling of the broken vessel. Reaching down with groping hands he undid the weapon Tremaine carried and affixed it to his pack. Then with tired and sore everything, he flipped the large man on to his back, grabbed both his wrists, and began to pull. Walking backwards in a sandstorm pulling a man twice his weight, Bale started cursing, which was something he had never done before but he felt it appropriate. Several minutes of slipping, falling, losing his grip and bumping into debris sticking out of the sands, he made it to the edge of ship. The sands and wind had created a ramp leading to one of the broken decks, which Bale had dragged Tremaines unresponsive body up on to. The tilt to the wreck coupled with the fine grit that had deposited on the metal floor made things slippery, which was easier Bale noted for dragging someone. He pulled Tremaine into a hallway that led back a distance. Inside the wind was reduced to a howling constant, with only a smattering of dust being moved about in the air, making it significantly easier to breath. Down the darkened hall and through a doorway was a pitch black room of sorts. Since the wind and sand were not nearly as prevalent in here, Bale took a moment to reward himself by flopping Tremaine over on his side so as not to cause him to breath in more dirt, and flopped down beside him. He coughed and hacked for a minute, spewing out a gob of dirt, and clearing the crust of mud away from his nose and eyes. He felt Tremaines chest, checking for breathing, and was satisfied by the rise and fall of the mans ribs. Bale closed his eyes, which was no change from the pitch black inside the wreck, and he could feel the soothing grip of sleep begin to take hold.

Bale awoke with a start, feeling cold, and not knowing where he was. Taking a moment and fighting the panic that came on, he remembered, and reached out to assure himself that Tremaine was still there, and still breathing. He slipped out of the straps of his pack and tried to stand, his body crying out in agony as muscles stretched out from their previous tight position. Standing up was difficult as the tilt to the floor, and the blackness of his surroundings was disorienting, nearly causing him to topple over. He arched his back as he had seen his Father do many times after hard labour, feeling the satisfying release of pressure from his spine. Then he saw the light in the black expanse before him. At what seemed an incredible distance was a glowing dot, a faint blue mark against the darkness. Bale blinked a few times trying to determine whether or not his vision was playing tricks on him, feeling still more grit on his eyes. He began to kneel down to give Tremaine a shake, when the light disappeared from his view. He stood up a little, seeing it was still ahead of him, and realized there was something between him and the glowing curiosity. He knelt down feeling for his companions shoulder.

"Tremaine. Hey." he said shaking the large mans shoulder. Tremaine made a coughing sound, and his body shuddered as it hacked dryly, then he was still once more. Bale shook him once again and said his name with no response. He checked for breathing and was relieved that he didn't succumb to the sands he no doubt breathed in. On a whim, Bale felt the mans forehead, which he found was burning. "Oh no." he uttered, assuming Tremaine had a fever and was ill. Not wanting to make the journey towards the glowing thing, he reached into his pocket and took out his knife feeling the comforting weight of it in his hand. He turned to the shadowy blob against the black that was Tremaine. "I'm going over there to figure out this thing ok." he started to feel silly, but reassured, and continued. "Don't go anywhere." He felt himself grin at his own black humours, and decided that crawling was warranted.

He got on all fours, and felt his way along, getting to his knees only to check his progress. "You know. We're lucky you found this place." he said to Tremaine. "If we didn't make it here I'm sure we would have been killed in the sand outside." His hand stretched out and felt cold metal, a bar, sticking up in front of him. The way to one side was clear, and he could see the light without getting up. "I'll bet you've seen a lot of places like this." Another bar, and the light was gone again. He tried to get up but hit his head on something flat and solid, yelping in the darkness. Rubbing the soon to be lump on the top of his head, he now had the dubious task of feeling what was above and below. Running his hand along whatever was above him, he felt an edge and empty space above. There were several things in front of him, making the going slow, but he could move them with ease, revealing the glowing blue light once more. "I've never seen such a vast place myself. Once I went to see a giant lake near the edge of the province with my Father, so we could get some shelled-fish from the shores. That was a long walk let me tell you." He remembered his Father pulling him along in the hand cart through the forest path. It was a two day journey just to get there, but his Father and some of the other village men had taken their sons to Lake Orien to get the delicacies as a sort of rite of passage. Plus as it were it was a chance for the men to get away from their wives for a short time. The memory struck Bale with a pang of sadness, as he wondered if he would ever get to make that journey again.

Time seemed to stand still in the dark, but eventually Bale was within arms reach of the glow. It was rectangular and thin, not round as he had initially thought, and he reached out to see if it was hot. As his hand got near he heard a light ringing come from it, and the room lit up. White light hurt his eyes from overhead fixtures, and the burnished looking metallic surfaces seemed to reflect it. Bale covered his eyes as they burned and ached from the jolt. He slowly let them acclimate, shading them from the brightness, and looked about.

The room wasn't very big at all, much to his surprise. The obstacles he had to crawl past were tables and chairs, most of the latter being scattered about and toppled, likely when the ship crashed. The floor and most of the horizontal surfaces had a coating of brown dirt and dust layering it, in contrast to the clean looking vertical angles of the walls. A pair of doors led out of the room and back into darkness from the opposite side they entered. Bale could see the trail he had made on his blind journey from one side of the room to the other, and dusted himself off realizing that it was pointless as the dirt had invaded his entire being. Putting his knife away he moved back to Tremaine and felt him once more. The man moaned lowly, feeling Bale touch his forehead. Bale knew the man was sick, but had no idea what do to about it. His water was almost gone, and he had no idea if he would be able to find more. He knew the only way to find out was to look. He noticed the air in the room was much cooler than outside, almost cold, and he gave a little shiver. Tremaine moaned again, possibly uncomfortable from the cold, although Bale thought that impossible as the fever was high. Tremaine coughed, dryly spitting out some dirt, his arm slapping dust from his face.

"Tremaine?" said Bale hoping the man would waken. He mumbled something in his fevered sleep about hands, and then lay there as if a corpse. Bale took the half full water skin out of his pack and had a drink, feeling himself swallowing mud and grit. He coughed tasting the foulness his body was trying to push out of his lungs, hoping that he wouldn't get sick again. Looking inside his pack he took out a light shirt and his blanket. He soaked the shirt with a little of the water and laid it across Tremaines forehead, and then placed the blanket atop him, a meager defense against the coolness of the room. Bale could hear the wind howling outside, but could only make out a dark brown smear from the end of the hallway where they entered. He looked at the shotgun, hooked lamely to his pack and felt lucky he hadn't lost it outside. He decided that he needed to find water, and fast, otherwise both of them were in jeopardy. Unhooking the weapon from his pack he tried to understand its workings, but could only figure that the hook underneath it was what discharged it, and had a moment of debate as to whether or not he should take it.

"Well better to have it I guess. You won't miss it while you're asleep." he said convincing himself of the necessity. He looked at his traveling companion, fearing that he might expire while he was looking for the basics of life, and could no longer argue against it. "I'll be back as soon as I can Tremaine." He got to his feet holding the shotgun, feeling the heaviness of it, trying to understand just how to hold it. Of the two doors along the wall he chose the left, gave Tremaine one last look, and stepped slowly into the darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN : Apologies for the delay. I had a case of 'writers block' it seems. Hopefully this chapter with be relatively exciting. Thanks for reading and please comment! :D**

Bale quickly realized just how big the wreck really was, and felt lucky that most rooms and hallways still had lighting which switched on when he entered. After coming to several stair cases he had decided to stick to the floor he was already on, trying to be sure he wouldn't get lost. At one point he had come across what he thought was a hospital, which had a few beds, and several cabinets with their doors flopped open, and things scattered about the floor. The angle of the ship caused any loose debris to be shuffled to one side, which kept some of the floor clean for walking. Bale noticed that although the air was a little more stale the deeper in he went, there was also less dust coating everything which he took as a sign that the wind and sand never got this far in.

He spent what felt like to him an eternity searching for something useful, but being unable to read any of the markings or writing that was on places and things, he started to succumb to despair, and at one moment sat down on the floor and cried. After recovering and berating himself quietly, he made his way back to the dusty entrance to check on Tremaine. There was no change in the mans condition, which Bale had assumed there wouldn't be, and decided that he would have to try the lower decks first in hopes of finding water, which would at least be recognizable. He took the first stair well down, slinging the shotgun the way Tremaine had usually carried it so as to leave his hands free. He descended into near darkness, as the lighting on the level below buzzed and flickered, and occasionally sparked, but wouldn't come on. Instead there were other smaller lights which gave only sparse illumination, lighting the way in spots interspersed with long stretches of dark and shadow.

The deck below had a large cavernous room that ran quite a distance along the length of the ship, and held all sorts of large machinery. Bulkheads and supporting structure mixed in the shadowed parts of the massive room, giving Bale an awe filled impression of their strength. He stepped past several benches and tables that were slung to the side, and overturned, their legs pointed in the air as if flung by a massive hand. He looked in some cabinetry seeing items he presumed were some sort of special tools, but could only wonder at their purpose. He noticed in one shadowed corner near a strut as thick as his chest a rock, which seemed totally out of place. So much so that he went and picked it up and realized right away that it wasn't a rock at all. The piece of dung crumbled apart in his hand, its musty smell invading his nostrils. He grimaced a little and dropped the piece of refuse, slapping his hand against his thigh in a vain attempt to get rid of the foulness. He turned his head and saw another not too far away, and then wondered at the creature that would have left it here. He had seen scat like this before on hunting trips with his Father, but it was from deer which would surely die if living on this planet he thought. He decided to attempt to follow the scat, and see if it led to something useful. He began to imagine a meal of venison and roasted vegetables, and wished he could feel his mouth watering a little. Tracking through the wreck was more daunting than he thought, as the dung seemed to be everywhere. Further along it was fresher, and more wet looking, which Bale took as a good sign. The smell was becoming more noticeable over the scents of metal and machinery. He ended up walking through most of the room, stepping through various levels of debris and detritus in a effort to find where this thing was. Eventually the trail seemed to lead to a hallway which had all of its lighting out, and ran further back through blackness into an oddly lit doorway.

Bale stepped through feeling his heart beat a little faster as he could hear the echoing of... something through the door. The light cast through the door seemed to dance in glowing bands on the end of the hallway, and Bale recognized with joy the sound of gentle running water. He picked up the pace and came into another large open area, but this one was partly filled with water. The light was from a fixture which was submerged, casting a rippling glow on the walls and ceilings as the moisture ran from low points on the ceiling. He looked about seeing some refuse from the mysterious creature here and there, but it was more apparent to him that whatever it was didn't willingly dirty its only source of water. Sticking his hand in, he pulled a cupped handful to his face, gave a sniff and gently poked his tongue in, testing to see whether it was good or not. He could see that it was moving, which was much better than standing water, and chanced it. He plunged his head into the cool fluids and drank, feeling his stomach go cold as the liquid sluiced in. He cut himself short, not wanting to find out the hard way that the water was contaminated, understanding that the amount he did drink would likely kill him if it were. _What choice do I have?_ He wiped his damp hair from his face, and examined the room.

The water seemed to stay at a far corner, so far back that it was submerged and out of view. But the wall behind him ran to another doorway, which was just back from the edge of the captured lake. It was dark beyond, or at least he was blinded by the brighter flickering from under the waters. Getting to his feet, he started walking towards it, and slipped on a small sheet of metal, which slid forward with a short squeal that echoed throughout the large cavernous room. He caught himself before he took a plunge, staggering into the edge of the waters. When he looked up, the door way was brightly lit.

"H-hello?" he said nervously, worried that he had awoken someone, or something. A shadow moved against the wall just inside the doorway. A small ball shape cast its form from the illumination, and then to Bales horror began to grow. He could hear a chuffing noise coming out of the other room, and the shadow grew larger than a man; a hunched form with a very rough and jagged looking outline. Bale began to reach for the shotgun as he backed up towards his point of entry, trying not to trip again as he felt his way. The shape moved, lumbering as was at the door way, grunting like one of the bears he had back on Ariannia, only this was much larger. It had to squeeze its form through the doorway, and as it did the rough outline became apparent as large quills stood up from its back. It had a beak for a snout, a hard looking jaw which Bale feared would crack him in half if it got hold. Its eyes had a cloudy glow, like something that had spent its entire life in the dark. The thing tilted its head, as if listening for anything out of the ordinary in its home. Bale slowly breathed, realizing it couldn't see him right away, trying not to let on that he was even in the room as he silently backpedaled. The creature turned for a brief second as if to go back into the room, and then stopped. He could see it lift its nose into the air, its heavy breathing pulling in all the scents of the room. Bale had made it to the doorway and turned to walk forward back towards the machinery room. When he did he could hear the creature shuffle about in place, growl lowly, and then lumber slowly forward towards the hallway. Bale picked up the pace, his footsteps growing louder, echoing in the emptiness of the ship.

The beast howled, thunderous and deep, and Bale could hear it running. He felt the shotgun banging against his leg as they pounded along the decking, but didn't want to risk it until he had no choice. He burst into the machine area at a sprint and decided to try and lose the beast in the miniature maze of cabinets, benches, and overturned things. He ducked behind a cabinet, and heard the thing crash into the room, knocking over an already overturned chair. It slid to a halt and sniffed, looking for the scent. Bale made his way through the machinery, ducking through tight spaces only to have the shotgun bang metal on metal. Like a dinner bell, the beast knew which direction he needed to catch his prey, and began clambering over the cold machines and debris of the room. Bale changed direction and slipped in behind a cabinet that was still standing, hearing the creature crashing its way through the room. As it passed him by, leaping over some over turned tables heading for the far end of the room, Bale let out a quiet breath of relief and slowly peeked over top of the ruins. The beast had knocked over another cabinet as it landed several bounds away in the midst of a pair of large metal containers stopping as quickly as it could. Bale slipped along towards the staircase that he came down on, hearing the heavy breathing of the creature in the near distance, muffled only by the jagged angles of the ruined room. He turned a corner, glancing around over the junk, only to see the beast turn sharply in his direction again, and begin running. Startled he yelped and ran, unslinging the gun as best he could. He found himself running back towards the water room, and panicked, deciding to jump over a chair and try to cut around the beast. He caught the chair with his foot, and tumbled, sliding hard into a cabinet and smashing his head. His vision swam and his ears rang as throbbing quickly took hold in his skull. As he tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't comply, the pain in his head eclipsing the need to get up momentarily. He could hear a table getting knocked aside, metal and tools getting flung about as the beast began to find him again. Bale saw the sling for the gun, and with his arms still working, he flopped a hand out on top of it, pulling the hefty metal weapon to him. The beast detected him beyond the offending chair that Bale felt was surely to be his demise. He pulled the butt of the gun into his thigh, as he began to back himself up against the cabinet. The beast roared and lumbered towards him, using massive forepaws to push aside whatever was in its way. Bale suddenly noticed he was humming a childhood song, one that his Mother would sing him when he couldn't sleep. In his minds eye he smiled foolishly at himself for his folly. The creature rumbled again as it tossed the chair between them into the air, pounding the deck plates in rage. It growled low, cocking its head side to side, as if knowing its prey was cornered and thinking on the best way to kill it. Bale wasted no time. He pulled the gun up and placed the butt into his shoulder, his weak arms lifting the heavy metal barrel to bear. The beast roared once more as it realized its prey had changed, then squared its shoulders and leaped, its beaked mouth spewing foam.

Bale couldn't even look. He pulled the trigger hoping that was what would make the weapon work. The blast rang deep, banging in echoes off the surrounding metal, reverberating throughout the ship. The shot caught the beast to one side of the chest, and its massive body slammed into the cabinet next to Bale, covering him with spit and blood. Bale rolled out of the way as quick as he could, since the beast was still moving, the quills on its back falling towards him. Bale pulled himself quickly under a table and flipped back over, pointing the shotgun between his feet at the creature. A low moan issued from it as it tried to rise, but couldn't seem to make its body work. After a brief moment, the creature let out a tired gasp, its form seeming to slump a little as its quills began to lay flat against the new corpse. Bale lay there panting and watching the body, unsure as to whether or not he would chance moving near it. With his head still pounding, and his legs now just shaky, he slowly pulled himself out from underneath the table, and stood up brandishing the shotgun before him. He made his way back to Tremaine through the dim light, picking a new path through the rooms now altered state.

Tremaine had changed position on the floor, scattering the blanket about, but was still asleep. Bale fixed the blanket and grabbed the waterskin, the idea of a full bladder to help cure the man filling his tired mind and body with hope.


	16. Chapter 16

The next day or so was a lot of running back and forth for more water, mostly so he could drip some into Tremaines mouth in between fever dreams and bouts of tossing and turning. At one point the man had been yelling something incoherent, pleading with his unknown assailant, but Bale couldn't figure out who he was talking about and left it for another time. The wind had subsided for a time, and the heat returned outside as daylight came back, but the temperature barely changed inside the wreck which Bale felt was some kind of blessing.

The room which the former beast had resided in held nothing but what looked to be more tools, and Bale decided not to spend any time trying to understand them. The waters he had realized were actually part of something underground which must have been punctured. At one point as he was filling his waterskins, he could see something swimming just below the surface, small and shiny. This gave him some hope for food long term since they couldn't leave the planet easily, and was happy that Albertous had given him the fishing rod. He had explored some of the upper decks, finding much of the same debris and ruin that he had found throughout. At one point he found a set of locked rooms, and put them in the back of his mind to talk to Tremaine about, seeing as the older man seemed to have experience with something more than farm equipment. As much as he dared to explore he never strayed to the point where he felt uncomfortable about finding his way back, so his journeys were limited in scope.

Bale had decided to pull Tremaines limp body into one of the rooms with bedding, and created something more comfortable to lay him on rather than a dust strewn floor. There he was out of the dirt, although he was still filthy from the sand storm. He had removed the armor from his arm, and pulled the mans shirt off with much difficulty, as Tremaine had struggled weakly, thrashing with strengthless muscles against an enemy in his nightmares. As Bale had removed the dirty apparel, he noticed the incredible amount of scars the mans body had, as if he was shredded with a thousand knives and then put back together. Bale stood there with the dirty shirt examining the now healed damage, a record of a horribly storied past which Bale was almost fascinated by, but decided on the spot that it was a story for Tremaine to tell him rather than ask about. He took the time to find something to help wash not only the shirt in, but his clothes as well, and eventually his body. He found a relatively clean bucket in the machine room and set about the task he had watched his Mother do many times near the river. Once complete he hung everything over cabinetry, at one point cursing himself at not cleaning the dust away from one spot, and having to wash his pants again, removing the thin mud from his garment. As the air in the room was cooler, he went back and got his spare clothes from his pack.

That evening he stood at the edge of the hallway entrance, and listened to the wind ramp up. From what Bale could tell, as the sun went down, the wind would kick up a storm, which would make travel almost impossible if they had to go back to the gate for any reason. They had the choice of cooking themselves to death in daylight, or being sandblasted and suffocated by night. As he put a piece of dried meat in his mouth, chewing against the toughness and tasting the saltiness of it, he heard a shout from the other room echo through over the howl of the wind.

Bale entered the room finding Tremaine had awoken, and propped himself against the wall, clutching his head.

"Where are we?" he asked gritting his teeth slightly, his hands white knuckled against his head as if a vice squeezing.

"We're inside the wreck you found. We almost didn't make it." Bale picked up a waterskin, and handed it to him. "I had to pull you inside so you wouldn't drown in the sand." He said, his voice hinting at pride. Tremaine took a long pull from the waterskin, and spewed it on the floor, a coughing fit wracking his weak body. He vomited again, seeing brown eject from his insides mixed with very little bile. Bale took a step back and let him finish, feeling the urge to throw up himself, but suppressed it with a dry swallow and a grimace at the smell. Tremaine finished, panting slightly at the ordeal, then took another smaller drink and looked up sheepishly.

"I'll clean that up in a bit." he said. Bale smiled knowing that he would have to do it just to get rid of the smell, or move to another room. The thought was tempting. Tremaine rubbed his temples, his eyes closed as if darkness helped sooth the pains away. "Thanks kid." Bale took the gratitude with a small smile, and went to find something with which to clean up the mess. Once finished he began to tell Tremaine all that he had seen, how big the ship was, and the beast he fought. Tremaine was surprised to hear that he had used his shotgun, and asked to see it. Bale handed it to him, and he broke it open to check something. Satisfied he closed his eyes again, and lay back against the wall once more. "You're lucky." He said patting the weapon. "There's only two shots left in her." Bale then explained that he didn't know how to properly use it anyway, and had only figured out how to fire it by remembering their initial meeting. Tremaine nodded and let out a yawn, signalling his bodies necessity to sleep again. Bale left him to rest and went back to watching the sandstorm from the hallway for a while, lost in his own thoughts as the wind came up more, and the light died outside much like his own hope of ever making it back to his home.

The next morning Tremaine had woke Bale from his own slumber, demonstrating how well he felt by virtue of standing and walking. He also spent some time picking the dirt out of his weapon, commenting on how well it seemed to be regardless of the grit packed into every nook and cranny. Once finished he ushered the young man to show him the animal he had killed.

"I'm impressed." said Tremaine standing over the body of the creature. Bale kept out of arms reach as he wasn't sure whether or not to trust the thing. He was heartened a little by the fact that Tremaine had rolled the thing over on its back with a boot, looking at the wound from the shotgun. "It's dead alright. I'm guessing you got lucky and hit his heart, but I can't really say."

"Well there aren't anymore as far as I can tell." said Bale noting that the eyes of the corpse were still clouded and almost glowed. "There was nothing in its lair, so this is probably the only one."

"Could be." mused Tremaine. "Let's see the water." Bale took him to the other room with its oddly comforting glow fro the submerged light. Tremaine sighed and gave a small smile, his fears calmed at the thought of being stuck here. Just below the surface Bale could see a school of silver fish milling about, darting by one another here and there.

"Wait here." he said excitedly, running from the room. Tremaine watched him bolt, and sat down on the floor. The water rippled from the motion of the fish, and the dripping from the ceiling as moisture condensed from the warmer air. Tremaine closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of Bale running up the stairs in the next room, and then of the gentle lapping of water. He sighed in tranquil bliss and wondered how long it could last. His reverie was interrupted when Bale came back into the room carrying the box from his pack. He took the fishing rod out and began to assemble it.

"Maybe we'll eat fresh tonight?" said Bale smiling at the thought of fresh food again. Tremaine watched him knot up the hook on the line and cast it into the pool. The fish investigated the new curiosity into their realm, but wouldn't bite. After an indeterminate length of time, Bale pulled the line and hook from the waters frustrated. "Looks like they aren't going after the hook dry. I need a beetle, or a worm. Something." Bale thought about using a piece of dried meat, but thought it wouldn't be wise to use up their dried foodstuffs. Tremaine got to his feet and stretched.

"I've got just the thing." he said walking out of the room. Bale waited and watched the fish, feeling as though they were taunting him somehow. Tremaine returned with bloody hands, and two cloudy almost glowing orbs. "Try these." Bale plucked the eyes from his palm and fixed one to the hook, setting the other near the box. He cast into the water, and watched the aquatic creatures stir about the thing falling through their liquid habitat. He could feel one of the fish pick at the bait, then another. After a few minutes with the eye nearly picked away from the hook, one fish tried to take a bigger bite, and Bale jerked the rod hooking the fish in the mouth. After a brief fight, Bale successfully pulled the fish to shore, using his knife to dispatch it quickly rather than watch it thrash on the tilted floor.

That evening the two enjoyed a fresh cooked meal as Tremaine had taken the time to look for something to cook on, finding a small portable stove in what he had called a 'lifeboat'. Bale had been lucky enough to catch several fish, only breaking one hook, which he was less worried about as Albertous had taught him how to make more. Afterwards the two reclined in their makeshift quarters, Tremaine belching his satisfaction at their situation. Bale took the time to ask a question that was bothering him.

"Why did you come back for me?" he asked, picking the last vestiges of meat from the skeletonized fish.

"What do you mean?"

"Back in the village. You came back and risked life and limb to get us both out. Why?" He watched Tremaine pick his teeth with a piece of bone, considering the question.

"When I realized what those people were, I couldn't leave you there in good conscience." He shuffled himself into a better position and burped again, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing. "Wraith worshipers are the most dangerous of people. In someways more dangerous than the Wraith they serve, because you can't see them. There's no sign they are that way until they reveal their hand, or... until you know what to look for."

"How did you know?" asked Bale now intently interested in the information.

"Honestly I really didn't until you said you were to be an offering. I've seen little signs before like Wraith tech, and heard people speak for their masters, but the one sure sign always seems to be the act of catching a person for the means of giving them to the Wraith." Bale nodded understanding the difficulty of it all.

"Was that why you were so suspicious of the villagers when we got there?"

"No... Well... Yeah, a little. People are always wary of newcomers, especially in a small place such as that." He threw his toothpick on the pile with the other scraps, and looked at Bale. "Aren't people suspicious of outsiders where you come from?"

"I think so. But how could I tell so much. My Father and Mother would deal with people we didn't know since I'm not old enough for much other than certain work." Bale wiped his hands on his pants, and then pulled his knees up to his chest. "The last time I had seen anyone new back home were the travelers from Atlantis." Tremaine nodded his head at the name, his eyes seeming to look through the floor.

"Atlantis." He repeated.

"Yeah. Anyways it's my turn to thank you for saving me." said Bale. Tremaine smiled thinly and just held up a hand.

"Don't worry about it. Since you hauled me in here, and kept me alive at your own risk, I'd say we're even." They sat in silence for a few moments. Bale thought of home a little but decided that it wasn't helping his situation, and put the memories away. He was interrupted by Tremaine suddenly getting to his feet. "You should get some rest kid. I've got some stuff I've got to show you tomorrow, and we've got to get into those locked rooms." He put his hands on his head, and raised his eyebrows comically. "That's going to take some doing to circumvent the security system."

"What do you think is in there?" Bale asked.

"Don't know kid. But on a ship of war, I'm willing to bet it's weapons."


	17. Chapter 17

**AN : I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it!**

The next morning found them walking through what Bale began to think was some sort of cruel eternal joke. As if the inhabitants had planned to leave the wreck here with nothing useful other than the tools which he had no idea how to use, all in the hopes that he would discover it. His frustration became apparent to Tremaine rather quickly.

"It's not everyday you find a massive space vessel crashed in a foreign land. Cheer up." said Tremaine, trying to remain somewhat light hearted. Bale opened some drawers and found some odd items, but nothing which either of them could identify as useful. In one room they found some clothes, but as luck would have it nothing that would fit. Room after room was more of the same, and after what felt like hours Bale had enough.

"This is pointless. There's nothing here for us." he said tossing another unknown item into another draw full of alien oddities.

"Maybe." said Tremaine considering their position. "We should probably carry on to those doors you talked about." Bale agreed to that as it seemed infinitely more interesting than searching through endless rooms.

"How do you know this was a warship?" Bale asked as they took a staircase, the lighting flickering to life as they entered the stairwell.

"I've been on a few. The layout is reminiscent of a logistical ship. Something that carries stuff to support a fleet." He stopped on the stairs, and chuckled. Bale turned around regarding him with annoyance. "You know, thinking on it, it's kinda funny that there's nothing here." Bale frowned and carried on trying to remember the way to the doors. He got lost once but eventually ended up in front of a row of doors, evenly spaced apart in a short hallway. Bale watched as Tremaine examined each of the doors, running his hand along the frames, looking for handholds, or handles.

"I was hoping to find a manual release, but if there are weapons in these, those doors don't generally have something to circumvent their locks." He rubbed his chin deep in thought. Bale, now feeling useless as he had no skills to offer, just stood there waiting, occasionally shuffling his feet. "We're going to have to do this the hard way." They went back down to the machine room and Tremaine instructed Bale to look for a prybar while he looked for a torch. Bale wasn't sure why Tremaine needed more light to get the door open, but he went about his task as he at least knew what the man meant by prybar. It didn't take either of them long to find what they were looking for. Bale had found a couple of long round bars with tapered ends that reminded him of some tools he had seen one of the farmers back home use to move a boulder from his field. The torch that Tremaine had referred to wasn't what Bale had expected. He showed him a heavy box with a long cable and small gun attached to it, which left Bale musing on how it worked. On the box were a set of controls that Bale couldn't understand, and wondered if Tremaine held out on his literacy of the alien ship. He also had a hammer with him as well.

"This thing is heavy. Gonna take a bit of doing to get it all the way up those stairs." he said panting a little as he attempted to lift it, setting it down quickly. Bale came to realize that he wasn't kidding. He began to believe that the box weighed as much or more than Tremaine as the pair struggled to haul it up several flights of stairs. Once on the correct floor it was just a matter of dragging it along, with Tremaine pulling, and Bale pushing. They had taken several breaks not only to rest, but also to move debris out of the way. Once in place the pair collapsed in the hallway, breathing hard and coated in sweat.

"Thank the ancestors!" exclaimed Bale as he lay on his back, eyes closed. Tremaine took off his shirt and wiped the sweat from his face, feeling the heat release from under the soaked garment.

"Yeah. This better be good... What's in there." he panted. They sat for a few minutes, cooling off and and Bale imagined the treasures beyond the doorway. Tremaine had figured it was weapons, but Bale preferred to think about food, maybe jewels, and at one point thought about a strange portal that brought him home. His smile peaked Tremaines curiosity.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just thinking of home." said Bale, his eyes still closed. "Just making a wish." Tremaine nodded, shaking sweat from his damp hair, and then groaning as he got to his feet.

"One thing I forgot down stairs was the goggles." He straightened his back, obviously feeling the soreness in his lower back as he arched and grimaced. "No chance you could go down there and find a set?" After a good description of what he needed, Bale made the walk back down, and looked about for the eyewear that Tremaine had described. Starting at the place they had found the torch, and working from there, he went through a few cabinets and drawers until he eventually found what he was looking for. The way Tremaine had described them was glasses or goggles that you couldn't see through. Putting them up to his eyes, they did just that, even when he looked at one of the few lights which was working in the machine room. Wondering how he would use them, he returned to the sound of pounding metal on metal. "There you are, and there they are." he said of the goggles. He resumed pounding against the door, the hammer leaving marks with each strike. He worked his way down the surface of the door, hitting it with one hand and feeling with the other. Once he was satisfied in one spot, he would take a small piece of what Bale thought was charcoal, and drew a box. All in all when the banging was finished there was four black boxes scrawled on the door, which Bale was eager to know what it all meant. "So here's the thing kid." began Tremaine, picking up the goggles. "These doors have four bolts inside them, and the hinges are inside the room. The panel..." he pointed to a box next to the door, "... is dead. Since there's still power, it's likely that it's some sort of failure, or built in protection for whatever is in the room. Now I used the hammer to..." Tremaine used words like 'vibrations', and 'density' to help describe how he figured out where the bolts in the door were. Bale listened as best he could, but for some reason he was more excited to find out what was actually in the room, rather than pay attention to how they were going to break in. A cuff on the shoulder from Tremaine brought him back from the edge of imagination, an annoyed look on his face for realizing he had wasted his breath. "Hey. You getting all this?" he said peeved. Bale nodded, which made Tremaine frown a little, his patience wearing thin. "Alright." Bale watched as Tremaine set the controls on the box. "Cover your eyes." He placed the goggles over his own, and held up the torch. A pull of the trigger and a small faint blue light lit up on the end of the gun with a hissing sound. Bale watched as Tremaine put the gun near the uppermost square he had drawn, and almost shouted in fright as the hallway lit up with a light as bright as the sun. He quickly covered his eyes, seeing the spots dance in behind his eyelids. The hissing turned to a harsh sizzling and popping, and the smell of burnt metal filled the area.

"How long will this take?" asked Bale, raising his voice over the noise.

"Not too much time I think. So long as the torch holds up. Not sure how long its been sitting." Tremaine pulled the torch from the door releasing the trigger, letting the blue light die. "Look why don't you go see if you can catch some more fish. This will probably take longer than I think. Unless you want to eat some of your dried meats for another meal."

Bale went back to their sleeping spot and grabbed his fishing gear. He was starting to feel like he was underfoot, like Tremaine had dismissed him so he could continue his task in relative privacy. Somehow Bale was angry. _I had saved his life._ His mood had soured fully by the time he had gotten to the pool, setting the box down and curling up at the waters edge to just watch the fish, his interest in catching them diminished completely. He sighed heavily, feeling the weight of his thoughts bearing down. He had considered, and summarily dismissed, an option of leaving Tremaine here and striking out on his own. He had also considered what it would be like to disappear into the other half of the wrecked vessel of which they had yet to explore. That thought seemed more appealing as it afforded the opportunity to at least rejoin the older man once he was ready to do so. Thoughts of having to fish only for himself seemed to be more amicable, and alleviated his current perceived troubles. After some time he decided to no longer waste his time, and began fishing, hoping to catch enough to feed both of them.

He made his way back to their living quarters with five fish in hand, all the length of his forearm. The catch had cured him of ill thoughts, and he had outright buried any consideration of leaving. He placed the fish on the tilted tabletop and made his way back to the upper floor to tell Tremaine of his success, pounding his way up the staircase two at a time. Not too far away he couldn't hear any of the sounds of destructive industry he left behind earlier, assuming that the door was opened.

"Guess what I caught? Five fi..." As he rounded the corner into the hallway, Tremaine was on his knees bleeding from the forehead with his hands clasped over his head. Two people dressed in black wrappings and leather, their faces covered, stood over him pointing their weapons at the larger man. They looked up, their eyes revealing little surprise inside the dark fabric concealing their visage.

"BALE RUN!" shouted Tremaine. Bale reacted, turning on his heels to bolt. All at once though, something solid caught him in the forehead, loosening his legs underneath him. As he fell to the floor, he could hear the men beating Tremaine just before he blacked out.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN : This chapter took an unexpected turn which surprised me. I think it will make for even more interesting character interaction in the up coming chapters. Please read and review. Your input helps me to develop the plot. Thanks and enjoy!**

He barely cracked his eyes, and a blinding light hurt them. The hard surface he lay on seemed cold somehow, but Bale couldn't describe it even if he had vocal capabilities. The light penetrating his eyelids taunted him, a devil poking its spear in between his eyes. The ringing in his ears was coupled with the sensation of pressure on his chest. His wrists hurt, as did his ankles, bruised somehow but he was unsure as to the method of injury. The ringing in his ears changed pitch, and seemed muffled. The pressure on his chest slowly became eclipsed by the pain in his head, a sort of crushing feeling of mild, maddening discomfort that he would rub to sooth if his arms worked. A chill passed through him, but he was unable to shiver as his muscles wouldn't respond to anything his mind willed.

 _Am I dead?_

He could feel a spot of warmth under his arm, and again on the opposite side. Something was trying to carry him.

"...ale? Ba...ake u.. Bale...ke up." said a voice over the muffled ringing. The air turned warmer, making him imagine a summer day in the village. His Mother mending shirts with the other women of the village. His Father helping to build a storehouse to hold wood for the coming winter. His home alive with the comings and goings of the village. He could see his Mother offer him a sweetbun, and the memory of the sugary confection made him imagine a smile on his face. The ringing in his ears changed pitch slightly, and he could hear people talking, voices he didn't recognize, and felt his body being placed on something soft.

"..at's hi...ame?"

"Bal.." said a voice becoming recognizable. "His name...ale." He was frustrated by the sound in his ears fading in and out, and felt himself cry out to such affect. Something warm touched him, as he realized his body was trashing about, his screaming only evident by the vibrations he could feel in his throat. His eyes opened to a mass of shapes and light moving about him. As he struggled, on of his arms stopped moving, and went cold. Soon he fell into a deep sleep, his dreams invaded by shades and horrors he had never witnessed.

"Bale. Hey. Bale wake up." Bale heard the sound of low moaning, and then came to realize that it was himself. His body felt as if tied to the ground by weights. As he tried to move his arm to shield his eyes from the light beaming directly into his face, he ended up slapping himself sending a wave of mild pain through his head. His legs twitched and he could hear his feet scraping against the floor. "Bale. Wake up kid!" Bale flopped himself over on to his stomach, and opened a sluggish eyelid to survey his surroundings. Wherever he was was dimly lit, with the walls having an almost rust coloured texture. The floor beneath him was dirty and pitted with small dips and scratches, with reddish paint worn away in spots. The pain his head seemed to only intensify when his eyes moved over anything brighter than the ember on a candle wick by comparison. He closed them tight as a wave of discomfort passed over his forehead.

"Where am I?" He mumbled, his voice slurring to near incomprehension.

"We got lucky kid. Some Travelers picked us up." said the voice he now recognized as Tremaine. "Good to see you're still in one piece... Well... Sort of anyway." Bale lay there feeling the cold metal beneath him, wanting to move but imagined it was ill advised to do so.

"You call this luck?"

"It wasn't the Wraith kid. We are lucky." Bale considered that point, taking it for fact and letting it be. He could hear the sound of metal hinges moving, the squeaking and squealing sending s shiver through him. The sound of footsteps stopped near him, and he gingerly opened an eye to look. His captor was a tall lanky woman, her dark hair pulled back into a braid and laying across her leather covered shoulder. On her hip was a rather large gun, which from what Bale could tell in his addled state seemed more part of her than not. She stood there looking at him through the bars of the cell more as a curiosity than a problem. He groaned and closed his eyes, unable to fight back if she was to kill him then and there.

"I'm Carin, commander of the ship Apsis." she said. Bale flopped an arm over his eyes again, feeling the bruise in his forehead radiate pain in time with his heartbeat. "I'm told your name is Bale?" He nodded in affirmation, not wanting to speak. "And you..." she turned towards Tremaine, "...you are Tremaine Prell, of Heracane."

"Not any more it seems." said Tremaine. "Heracane is gone forever."

"A punishment from a higher authority perhaps?" asked Carin. Her tone seemed curious to Bale, and he wondered through his discomfort what she was referring to.

"If that higher authority is called pride and arrogance then yeah." Bale could hear the shift in Tremaines demeanour, and forced himself to listen more carefully.

"Pride was thinking your people could handle that terror in the first place." Carin turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the metallic chambers. From outside his view, the screeching door opened again. "Arrogance was believing that you could show the Satedans the way." The booming of the door seemed a note of finality, and Bale heard Carins words echo in his head. He turned his face to look out between the bars, seeing Tremaine hunched over, his back against the wall staring at nothing.

Bale lay there for an indeterminate length, feeling the pains in his head ebb and flow, which seemed to translate throughout his whole body. At one point a pair of guards came in, one carrying plates of food which were dropped on the floor. The fair on the plate looked something like food in Bales estimation, but the flavour disagreed with his palate, and he set his plate aside with a vague look of disgust. Across the hall Tremaine shoveled the food in as quickly as he could which nearly turned Bales stomach.

"How can you eat that?" he said looking at his plate. Tremaine stopped briefly, examining Bales plate and then going back to his own.

"How can you not? Our last meal was yesterday." Bale thought on that for a moment.

"Was I asleep that long?"

"Unconscious, yeah." said Tremaine between bites. He started to lick his fingers clean, and then looked again at Bales food. "You gonna eat that kid?" Bale shook his head in self absorbed thought, rather than response, thinking about all the things these Travelers might do to them. He looked over at Tremaine and asked. "Well likely they'll just put us out near a settlement next chance they get. But I have heard of them chucking stowaways and thieves out of the airlock." Bale looked at him.

"What's an 'airlock'?" he asked, his brow scrunched up. Tremaine chuckled low at the boy.

"We're on a ship Bale. In space." Bale took that thought in, never having considered he would ever be off world like this, out beyond the clouds. He wasn't sure what Tremaine meant by space, but it was very intriguing. "Now how about that food?" asked Tremaine. Bale didn't hear him as he pulled the small plate towards himself and ate without noticing the foul flavour, pondering what was outside the ship. When he was done his silent reverie, he turned to ask Tremaine about Heracane, and found the man curled up in a ball, snoring in the depths of slumber. With his head still hurting, he decided to do the same, trying to will himself into tranquility, but found sleep elusive. He lay there thinking about his journey thus far, and mused on how much farther he would be able to go before his luck ran out.

He awoke to the screeching sound of the door, this time accompanied by several sets of boots. Three guards with weapons came to his cell door. He looked up from the floor, wiping the crust from his eyes as they unlocked it, one of them addressing him.

"Carin wants to talk to you." Tremaine looked up from his spot on the floor, his expression unreadable. Bale stood stretching a little, before one of the men grabbed him by the arm ushering him out of the jail and down the hallway. He was brought to a room with a small table and two chairs. A pitcher of water and a glass was on the table, and seated on the far side was Carin.

"Sit down please." she said gesturing to the chair opposite her. She nodded to the guard who looked at Bale with suspicion, grunted a response and placed himself outside the room as the door closed. Bale complied, if only to ward off the potential for incurring her wrath. She poured a glass of water, and pushed the glass in front of him. "When my men brought you aboard, I was curious to know how such a young boy could have fallen in with the likes of a man like Prell. When they described how you were living, it seemed obvious that you ended up on that world by extraordinary circumstances. Our scouting party didn't see any other space craft, so we can only assume you came through the stargate. Would this be correct?" Bale nodded, not wanting to speak for fear of saying something wrong, and Carin smirked. "You can speak freely boy. I've no plans to kill you."

"We did come through the gate as you said." was all Bale would offer.

"Where did you come from?"

"I can't say really." Bale watched as her smirk went away. Her demeanour tensed visibly, as if not used to being denied her way. "I had a book with my things back on the planet. It had the symbols for passage through the gate that led us to Trom." She leaned across the table looking him in the eye.

"Was Trom a planet?"

"No. It was a village. A place we barely escaped from." he said. She stared at him, beginning to relax as their conversation continued.

"Why did you have to escape? Did you steal something? Did Prell have his way with a local girl?"

"What? No! We aren't thieves!" said Bale nearly shouting. "They were going to give me to the Wraith as an offering. Tremaine saved my life. I thought he had abandoned me to the villagers when they captured me, but he came back! We escaped together and ended up on that world with the ship." Bale suddenly realized that he was on his feet leaning across the table. Carin had barely moved, and Bale felt his face uncomfortably close to hers. He sat back down slowly, then decided to take the water to help divert his attention. She got up and went to the door. When she opened it, Bale could hear her ask someone outside to get the pack from her quarters. She then sat back down more relaxed, as if her thoughts had changed from interrogation, to satisfying her curiosity.

"You don't belong out here Bale. The galaxy is too big." She smiled at him. "Tell me your story."


	19. Chapter 19

Carin had decided to allow Bale and Tremaine limited access to her ship. Bales story of his journey had satisfied her assumptions about him. Of Tremaine she wasn't as sure, and told him so, leaving the threat of a long walk back to the planet from orbit lingering. They were allowed access to the mess hall, a small entertainment area, and their quarters. Anywhere else would be under guard. The one thing Bale did request is that he get a chance to see outside the ship. Carin had led him to a window and watched as he stood awe struck at the near incomprehensible expanse of emptiness just beyond the thin layer of glass.

"I never knew." he whispered. Carin had dimmed the light so he could see better, the speckled points of the stars filling his view. He could see the edge of the atmosphere of the planet they were on only a day or so ago. She smiled watching his innocence flee before the awesome power of the universe. His hands were pressed up against the window, as if trying to open it so to see out and get a better view.

"Quite the sight huh?" she asked.

"It's... It's incredible. I've never seen anything quite so wonderful." She tilted her head for a better look, and confirmed her suspicions. Bale had tears in his eyes. "Back home, the stars were always bright on clear summer nights, but never like this."

"I've never known anything but life aboard ship." said Carin. "I don't think I would have been satisfied being stuck in one place." Bale wiped the tears he had realized were on his cheeks, and regained his diminished composure.

"Carin. What happened to Hera... Herickane?"

"Heracane." She sighed, and leaned up against the window. "Why do you want to know?"

"I heard what you had said to Tremaine. It sounded like something terrible." He looked at her, her eyes unfocused as she considered what to do.

"Bale the story of Heracane is really for Tremaine to tell you. It's not a good or happy story either. What the Heracanians did to the Satedans was unconscionable." She looked at him, her face a mask of soft regret. "I can tell you this. I've only ever met one person from Heracane, and I wasn't sure he was from there until he told me." It took a moment for Bale to realize that Carin had tricked Tremaine into confessing his true nature.

"How did you suspect he was from there?" asked Bale. Carin smiled again.

"We had some old records. Educational stuff that helped to teach me when I was in school. The stuff was very old, but my Mother had told me to pay attention to it since it was very good material. The recordings and holograms were from Heracane, so I grew up listening to the voices of those people. When I heard Tremaine talk, it took me back to my childhood, and I made the leap to find out." Bale nodded, understanding her reasoning but still needed to hear what had happened to Heracane. He looked out at the stars and became captivated once more, their spots of light no longer twinkling like they did at home.

"Can I stay here a while Carin? I just want to watch the stars for a while." Carin nodded in agreement.

"Fair enough. I'll give you an hour, and I'll send someone to take you back to quarters." She stood up, straightening her jacket, and then leaned over to look him in the eye. "Do not leave this area. Are we clear?" Bale nodded, taking the veiled threat as genuine, and returned to watching the universe before him. She stepped out of the room leaving him in the dim light and silence. Bale considered how to approach Tremaine on the subject of his heritage, not wanting to put a rift between the two of them. He began to feel that Tremaine must have been lonely, if not because of moving from place to place all the time, then surely because there was no one left of his people. Bale wondered if he would be told at all, and decided on the direct approach rather than bandy about attempting to lead the man to telling him in his own way. As he watched out the window his mood dropped a little bit. He began to get homesick, and wondered if he would ever be able to make it back at all. During his talk with Carin before she released him, he had asked about Ariannia and Atlantis. She had never heard of his homeworld, but Atlantis was a name that had been batted about the Traveler fleet a few times. She had promised to ask about it when they rejoined other Travelers in a few weeks time.

After an hour the door to the room opened and the lights came up, recovering Bale from his communion with the stars. He turned expecting Carin or one of the guards, but was greeted by a young girl close to his age. Her blonde hair was long and tied in a braid draped over his shoulder. She wore dark leather pants like the rest of the inhabitants of the ship, and had on a long sleeve shirt rather than a jacket. Her eyes were light, and struck Bale unexpectedly, as if she was someone whose entire being was revealed through their depth.

"Hello. My name is Heyanne. Carin told me to make sure you went back to quarters." Bale stood there dumbstruck, feeling his face get hot and making the bruise on his forehead ache.

"Um... Yeah." Somewhere in the back of his mind he was yelling at himself for sounding like a fool. "I guess I should go back." Heyanne smiled and gestured to the doorway. Bale walked as if in a daze, wanting to speak with the girl, but unsure as to why he felt he couldn't. The walk wasn't particularly long, which left him at a loss for what to do. He wasn't sure what to say, but when they got to his room he turned to her. "Can... I mean... Is it possible to take me back there... To the other room. Later I mean." His words were coming out all jumbled, like he had a mouth full of stew and was trying to sing without losing any. Heyanne smiled, the curve of her lip making Bale flushed even more.

"Maybe. But only if Carin says it's ok." She opened the door, and Bale stepped in, watching her eyes as the portal closed once more. The room had two bunkbeds, but Tremaine and Bale were the only ones there. Tremaine had taken up one bunk and lay there staring at the underside of the bed above.

"How was your talk?" He asked.

"Huh?" Bale stood there for a moment, and then turned to see the man looking at him. "I'm sorry. What?" Tremaine looked at him curiously.

"Your talk. With Carin? How was it?"

"Oh. Oh yeah. It was good." Tremaine shook his head a little and went back to staring at nothing in particular. Bale put his thoughts of Heyanne aside, as difficult as it was, and set to finding out about Heracane. "Carin wouldn't tell me what you two were talking about. About your homeworld, and what happened." Tremaine sighed and closed his eyes. "She said it was your story to tell."

"It's not a good one kid." Tremaine moved to sit on the edge of the bed, hunched over so as not to hit his head on the bed frame. "Heracane paid the price for pride and arrogance just like I said."

"So what happened?"

"When I was young..." a tired smirk crossed his face, "...a lot younger than this, I was a sailor in the Heracanian Defense Force. I used to travel around in ships like this all the time. We would do things like protect shipping, chase away pirates including the Travelers if you can imagine that." Tremaine stood up and paced about for a moment before continuing. "There was a time when Heracane was considered a society of morals, and justice. Our knowledge was growing and our people happy. The Wraith had woken while I was sailing, and their cullings were becoming more frequent in our part of the galaxy, so naturally the leaders of the time tried to create an alliance between several other worlds, and pool our efforts to create a defensive technology that would prevent the Wraith from culling our worlds. Sateda was part of our alliance."

"Then what did Heracane do to the Satedans?" asked Bale. Tremaine leaned against the wall, and balled his fists, gently pounding one against the metal in frustration.

"We developed a weapon. A kind of automated warmachine that would attack the Wraith anywhere. In orbit. On the ground. Anywhere. Our leaders were very proud of it, and all the testing seemed promising. The Satedans were very skeptical, and their scientists were going to be instrumental in bringing this thing to life. Timing was crucial since the Wraith had already culled two nearby worlds. So Heracanes leadership saw only one path to convince the Satedans of the validity of their involvement. We built several protoypes, deployed them around Sateda, and lured the Wraith to that planet as a testing ground for us and proof of concept for them." Bales eyes widened. He couldn't fathom this thing that the Heracanians had done, bringing a terrible enemy to the doorstep of a friend so as to prove something. It seemed unconscionable somehow.

"Why would they do that? Why didn't your people stop them?" Tremaine stopped pounding the wall, and a sneer came across his face.

"What do you know about it kid? You think these things are easy? That people get along everywhere? My people made a poor decision. We led the Wraith to Sateda, and our weapon failed. By the time we got it running again the damage was done and Sateda was in the throes of planet wide war. The Wraith were capturing thousands, and killing millions, all because the Satedans fought back. Luckily some escaped through the gate, while others had fled in ships, bound for the edges of the galaxy. A lost civilization. Heracane had very little time to prepare, and the Satedan government had come to us to help them, only to find out how we had betrayed them. We captured their scientists and forced them to work on the weapons, while the senior leaders escaped, leaving their own to our hands." His expression softened, and Bale said nothing as he watched the tiredness take hold of the man once more. "We put all our effort into creating those things that were supposed to defend us, but it turned out that it would be part of our demise. The Wraith came, and we unleashed the weapons and they did terrible destruction to the Wraith fleet, but there was a flaw in the programming and the weapons turned on us. They were so powerful. My ship. The only ship left had made best speed away from the planet when it exploded, killing everyone there. A day later we were ambushed by a Wraith cruiser, who boarded us, and in the battle had killed or captured everyone on board. I spent months in a cocoon listening to what was left of my people being fed upon and murdered. After a while I lucked out and escaped."

"How did you escape?" Tremaine shook his head, signaling the end of his story telling.

"Not now kid. That one is for another time." Tremaine left the room presumably to gain solitude from prying questions. Bale lay back on his bed and considered the story. He felt a little guilty for bringing it up, but understood Tremaines behaviour a little more. Heyanne intruded upon his thoughts, which seemed a much more pleasant way to pass the time rather than dwell on the mistakes of a dead civilization.


	20. Chapter 20

_Authors Note : Hi all. Sorry it took so long to make another chapter. I got sick (depression) shortly after the last chapter, and it's taken me a while to get back into the mood to write once more. I'll try to stay faithful to what I said early on and post one chapter a week. Enjoy and comment! :D_

He wasn't sure what time it was when he awoke with a start, his arms flailing slightly fighting with a blanket someone had dropped over him in his slumber. Across the room Tremaine snored, occasionally mumbling something incoherent. Bale sat up and felt his stomach protest at the lack of food. Taking a brief moment to relieve and clean himself, he went to the mess hall in search of food. On entering he could smell heavily spiced meat being grilled up inside the kitchen, filling the room with heady scents that made his mouth water and his stomach turn over slightly in desperate anticipation of a hot meal. Unsure as to what to do, his attentions to the wondrous scents faltered when he realized that Heyanne was sitting at one of the tables eating something meaty and braised, with steaming, fluffy, white... something on the plate next to it. She spied him and gave a small smile, to which he took as a signal and approached her.

"Hi." he said unsure.

"Hello. Did you sleep well?" she asked before taking a small bite of what he recognized as mashed potatoes.

"Yeah. Although I'm not sure what time it is or how long I've been out."

"It's just after the start of the second watch. Close to what you would normally think of as lunchtime." She finished her sentence with a flourishing gesture over her plate. He smiled at her playfulness and absently scratched at his head.

"Food would be good. I'm starving. But I'm not sure how things are done on a ship." She wiped her mouth, and stood up grabbing him by the hand and pulling him in tow to a small window in the wall that peered into the kitchen. Bale could instantly feel his face go hot from her contact, but still was unsure as to what it all meant. He forced himself to pay attention as she began her explanation.

"All you have to do is knock on the counter here..." which she did, "...and someone will come over with a plate of whatever they're cooking. Ah. Here's the finest cook in the fleet." To Bales surprise a very gaunt looking elderly man with pop eyes and a stained apron appeared at the window and dropped a plate of steaming food the same as Heyanne's on to the counter. The old man smiled baring what was left of his teeth which were yellowed and stained. "This is Ex. Short for Exley. Ex, this is Bale." The old man stuck a very bony arm out of the window so as to shake Bales hand. When Bale took it he was readily reminded of the village filled with bodies and skeletons just after he left his home. The joints on his knuckles seemed to be too large for such thin fingers. "Ex can't talk anymore. He was shot in the throat by some boarders long before I was born." He showed Bale by tilting his head revealing a scar on his neck that started midway from one side, and went all the way around the front to the other side. Bale could feel his eyes getting dry from not blinking. "He really is a good cook though. Thanks Ex." The old man waved a skeletal hand to the two of them and went back to stirring a steaming pot of something. Bale took the plate from the counter and followed Heyanne back to her own food. The first bite of the meat tasted of a mild bitterness that quickly turned to a warm sweetness. As Bale chewed he was amazed at the variance of flavours he was experiencing.

"This is incredible!" He said pushing another piece into his mouth. Heyanne made an 'ahem' sound and he looked up. She waved a fork in front of him. He flushed more with embarrassment at his transgression, rather than his slowly growing infatuation with her. He took the fork from her, and decided to slow his pace. She giggled causing him more embarrassment. "So... What...um...What do you do here? On the ship I mean."

"You mean aside from showing strangers how to get food?" He felt a morsel of food nearly get stuck, but managed to swallow hard to get it down. Clearing his throat, he nodded before taking another smaller bite so as to guard himself from choking. "I learn things right now. Everything." She rolled her eyes as to express the monotony of her plight. "I learn how to read and write, mathematics, history. And beyond that I apprentice to one of the engineers this year, helping to keep the engines and power running on the ship."

"Is that hard?" He asked, curious to know all about her and life aboard a ship.

"It can be. There's a lot of things to know and understand, but in the end I'm doing a lot of hard work, lifting and lugging and such. Still I get to contribute like the adults, and Irel, my mentor, says I'm doing well." She poked at her meal a little and then leaned back in her seat. "Sometimes I'd like to have things a little more exciting though."

"Being in space isn't exciting for you?" asked Bale.

"I've lived here all my life. I've been planetside plenty of times, but this is where I've always been." She chuckled, the sound sweet in Bales ears. "Kind of makes for a slow social life though. There's only a handful of kids on the ship, and only half are my age."

"In my village the children don't get a whole lot of responsibility until the age of ten. Until then it's a lot of learning little things, and playing." He took a bite, savouring the flavors of the food for a moment, before continuing. "I don't get to learn anything quite so exciting. Unless you like farming." She smiled at him, looking him straight in the eye, which made his heart start to pound.

"That sounds wonderful." she said softly, her smile subtle. Bale wondered at what she was thinking as the two finished their meal in silence.

She took him back to the window so he could look out at the stars some more. As before Bale stared out in great wonder at the vast openness of the black expanse. Heyanne stood close enough that he could smell her sweat, and the scent of her hair. A fragrance of sweetness, coupled with the subtle smell of something more industrial which he couldn't place.

"I can't believe how beautiful it is out there." he sighed. "Back home I could see the stars clear enough, but to be out here... It's almost indescribable."

"Do you miss your home?" Bale nodded as his thoughts wandered back to home, and his parents. He turned from the window and moved to the opposite wall, sitting on the floor so he could still see the luminescent dots of foreign suns.

"I really haven't been gone that long." He pulled his legs up to his chest, giving himself a mild, comforting squeeze. "Weeks at best." Heyanne regarded him with gentle eyes, and waited. "I've seen more in this little time that I've been gone than most of my village had ever seen in its entire existence I'm sure."

"Well when you get home, just think of all the adventures you'll be able to tell them about. The places you've seen." Heyanne gave him a smile that made his heart pump a little harder, feeling the rush of something he wasn't sure about, but enjoyed nonetheless. Feeling like a fool, his head just bobbed in agreement. She sat down beside him, and much to his surprise, sat down very close. Her shoulder rubbed up against his, making what he was sure was his very soul cry out in rapture, his heart now at a steady gallop. She sighed, a sound of angelic breaths in his ears. "I've been many places but always with my family. And as much as I want excitement, I couldn't imagine being without them on my own." They quietly for a moment more, when suddenly her head tilted over and she leaned it on his shoulder, her hair against his cheek. He had a flash of fear that she might notice his heart pounding away ever harder, but she just let out another breath and said in a hushed voice "You're a very brave man Bale."

He didn't move, and neither did she. They sat on the floor, and he felt as if time had stopped, hoping it was true as they gazed out upon the vast expanse of the universe before them. He dare not move for fear the moment would end, embracing the feeling of what he was sure was love for her, wishing he could bottle it and hold on to the wellspring of joy within.

A whirling red light began spinning further down the wall, casting a crimson glow throughout, when a voice erupted from a box next to it.

"All personnel report to stations. Wraith ship incoming. Prepare for emergency jump." Heyanne's head popped up along with the rest of her. She didn't miss a beat.

"Come on. I'll get you back to your room, but we have to go now." She put a hand out and pulled him to his feet. He recognized the note of urgency in her voice as she began to tow him from the room. His feet finally caught up with his thoughts and he began to run, trailing her by a stride or two.

"The Wraith are here?! How?" he asked. An explosion rocked the ship, shifting the floor under his feet, knocking him down. Heyanne rocked a little but kept her footing. Another explosion vibrated the ship, and again she was still on her feet.

"Come on!" she yelled. Bale quickly got back to his feet and the two sprinted. A few turns later they were outside his cabin. "Ok get in and stay there. I'll check on you after we're safe."

"Wait! What about you? Where are you going?" Bale said nearly yelling.

"I have to report to the engine room. Irel will need all the help he can get." She turned to bolt off, stopped, whirled back and pecked Bale gently on the cheek. He instantly flushed as he watched her sprint off and turn corner. Another explosion rocked him but he managed to stay on his feet. The door of the cabin opened up, and Tremaine grabbed him, hauling him inside, his mind awash in a sea of total confusion, both joyous and frightened. Tremaine latched the door and hit a button to pressurize the room, as the sound of power seemed to increase the tension in the air while ship began to ready itself presumably to jump somewhere.


	21. Chapter 21

Bale's ears popped, and he felt momentarily nauseous when the jump occurred, as if the room shifted slightly but he couldn't tell how. The adrenaline began to subside as his breathing slowed to compensate for the vague ill feelings he was experiencing. He sat down heavy, as Tremaine lay back across the room relaxing on to the firm mattress in turn. Bale stared at the floor, his mind clearing from the confusing jumble of his wants for Heyanne, and the excitement of the attack.

"Hey. You ok?" asked Tremaine.

"Yeah. I just have something on my mind." replied Bale, not looking up for fear of betraying his inner musings. Tremaine grunted in the affirmative and stayed silent for a moment.

"You need to talk about it?" asked Tremaine. Bale sighed and considered briefly.

"Not yet I think." he said, suddenly laying back on his own bunk, staring at nothing in particular.

"Suit yourself kid." said Tremaine, who promptly closed his eyes. Bale looked at the older man, and wondered what went through his head at times when he seemed at ease. Bale looked back to the underside of the bunk above him, and thought of Heyanne. He felt the stirrings not only within his thoughts, but felt the workings of his body taking hold, to which he began to realize that he was changing slightly. Unable to put his finger on how, he knew from being around the older boys in the village home. Everyone changes, and he understood that he was beginning to as well. He imagined Heyanne's hair brushing his cheek and felt his heart race slightly, warming him, remembering the scent of her closeness as they sat next to each other. Unbeknownst to him Tremaine had cracked an eye, cocking it towards him, and smiled.

Space travel lost its charm on the third day. Bale had trouble sleeping, feeling the need to be more active, more alive, and under a sky of sunshine. During the jump, Carin had stopped by and offered to take them both to the window. Tremaine refused citing previous experience with space travel. Bale was more eager, as he hadn't seen Heyanne anywhere's in the areas he was allowed to go, and company other than Tremaine felt necessary. He was only mildly fascinated by the blur racing past the window, and disappointed that Heyanne wasn't in the Captains presence. Carin gazed out the window with him, and gave a small sigh.

"It's not the same as normal space huh?" she asked, looking at Bale, the subdued glow of FTL casting a jumble of luminescence throughout the room.

"It's beautiful. But certainly not as wondrous as the stars." Carin noted a tone of sadness, unable to place it. She nodded and continued looking out. "Where are we going?"

"Gherra. There should be other Travelers there. We should be able to make some trades at the capital city as well."

"Will we be going planetside then?" Carin looked at him, a thin smile on her face, amused.

"Planetside? Maybe. I haven't decided yet." Bale noticed her grinning, and became flustered. "Be careful little man. You start using terms like that and people might mistake you for one of us."

"I heard Heyanne say it." he said, trying not to look at the slightly imposing woman.

"Indeed. Heyanne spoke of you just yesterday." Bales eyes widened.

"Really? What did she say? Is she going to come visit me?" His voice cracked on the last word, causing him no small amount of trepidation as Carin quietly chuckled at the obvious nature of his query.

"What did she say? Hmmm. Let me think. It's all so long ago." Carin turned her eyes up, feigning her attempt at remembering the prior days conversation. Her playfulness soured Bales mood, and he turned away scowling slightly. Seeing this, Carin slapped him on the shoulder gently. "Relax Bale. She said you two talked for a while and she introduced you to Exley." Hearing this, Bale felt slightly disappointed, but wasn't sure why. He had imagined all sorts of thoughts about her coming to see him, including a fiction of him saving her from a Wraith. His heroics somehow demonstrating to her that he was worthy of her affections, although he wasn't sure what those affections were.

"Oh." was all he said. He decided to steer the conversation back to their impending destination. "Is Gherra? Is it a nice place?" Carin titled her head back and forth, considering for a second.

"I've been better places. Launius. Kitel would be beautiful about now what with its crystal gardens and all. The crystals change color when you sing close to them. But Gherra isn't bad. They have plenty of places to trade, and the people are friendly." She turned and leaned against the window, thinking. "They've survived the Wraith like most."

"Will the ones who attacked us follow?" Carin gave him a sidelong look, and shrugged.

"We'll know if we've lost them if they don't come out of jump behind us."

Bale returned to his room, but not before checking the kitchen for Heyanne, disappointed that she wasn't there. He went back to his bunk, and wondered what awaited them at their next destination, finally falling asleep once again imagining himself heroically saving Heyanne.

He awoke as he was thrown from the bed, landing flat on his chest, knocking the wind out of him. A crashing sound echoed slightly through the metal walls. Tremaine was rubbing the back of his head having smacked it against the wall.

"What the hel..." Something struck the ship, interrupting his expletive, the sound reverberating. Not missing a beat he got up and made sure the door was secure, pressurizing the room once more. Another explosion threw him to the floor, this one much closer to their room. "Dammit!" he yelled in frustration.

"What's happening?!" shouted Bale, uncomprehending from his abrupt interruption of his slumbering.

"I got no idea kid. We could be under attack again. We came out of FTL a few minutes ago." Another explosion drowned any semblance of speech within the room. The whine of power rising somewhere behind the wall began, and then the atmosphere changed in the room once more. "I take it back. We just jumped again." Tremaine got to his feet and headed for the door, but stopped short of opening it, apprehension apparent on his face.

"What's wrong?" asked Bale, suddenly concerned to know what the man was thinking.

"Well that last explosion seemed close. If I open the door, and there's a leak in the hull..." He let the words linger, frustrating Bale. Climbing to his feet, he stood and fingered the sore spot on his ribs where he landed.

"So what if there's a leak in the hull? Can't we just plug it?" asked Bale. Tremaine regarded him as if he was insane.

"Look kid. This isn't just some boat you put on a lake and can stuff a rag into if you've sprung a leak. A tiny hole can decompress the compartment." Bale blinked at him uncomprehending. Tremaine gestured at the door in frustration. "No air kid! There's no air in space, and opening the door might let all the air out that's in here. We'd suffocate." An electric voice suddenly chimed in from overhead.

"Prell, this is Carin. Are you two ok?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Do you know if the hull is intact in our section?"

"Hold on. We're checking." They both stood in silence momentarily, Bale's thoughts frightening him as he imagined drowning from lack of air. "There is a section below you which is in vacuum right now. The bulkheads failed to shut properly due to a circuit malfunction when the compartment vented atmosphere due to the impact."

"Was it the Wraith again?" he asked.

"In the end it was. We came out of FTL into a debris field. Luckily it wasn't a Traveler ship, but it was recent. The Wraith came out almost right behind us, guns blazing."

"Great." said Tremaine leaning up against the wall.

"Look you two sit tight. I've got a damage control party moving to seal off that section, and perform repairs. Once we've secured atmosphere I'll send Heyanne to you with some food. Carin out." Bale looked at Tremaine, who stood there, arms crossed looking more angry than distressed.

"That's it?" he asked. Tremaine looked up out of the corner of his eye, and nodded. "Well... How long will the air stay in the room?"

"Look. Relax kid. As long as you're still breathing, you're still living right? Besides I don't think the air got cut off, but it's certainly been reduced to conserve it." He went back and laid down once more. "I wonder where we are?"

"Carin said we were going to Gherra. Do you know it?"

"Can't say that I've ever heard of it. But even though I went plenty of places in my travels, there are billions of planets out there." Bale took his cue from the older man, and sat on his bunk trying to relax, and not imagine the door bursting outward, ripping all the air from the room, and his lungs. The thought was almost panic inducing, but having Tremaine with him seemed to help, and he felt his presence reassuring. It seemed to be more than just a long time before he heard the knock of the latches securing the door slide back, and the portal opening to reveal Heyanne. Bale noticed how disheveled her hair was, small wisps poking from the braid she wore. In addition to the sweat and grease smears on her cheeks, she wore a very dirty and bulky suit, which Bale assumed was for working in a place with no atmosphere. A helmet was slung over her shoulder by a makeshift strap, and the former orange color of the suit was an almost dry soil like brown from years of use. She carried two boxes by the handle, and held them out, arms shaking as the weariness of hard work was setting in.

"Carin told me to scrounge you two up some food and drop it off." she said handing each of them a box. The industrial smell of her suit and the aroma of her sweaty, unwashed body emanating from with it was noticeable when Bale took the box from her. It was unpleasant but he didn't let on.

"Are you ok?" asked Bale, catching the desperation in his voice, and feeling slightly embarassed. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Tremaine's head coming up quickly, a small smile on his face.

"I'm fine. Look I can't stay. I've got to help the DC party secure another section. We took a few hits and it looks like we'll have to get some help from the fleet as soon as we catch up. As to where we're off to now..." She shrugged, barely noticeable in the suit, and let the words hang.

"Thanks Heyanne." said Bale, trying hard not to show disappointment. She punched him in the arm playfully.

"Don't worry Bale. It'll be alright." With that she left the room, the latches sliding back to seal it once more. Bale slumped down on his bunk and looked at the box, not opening it right away. Looking up to say something to Tremaine, the words caught as he found the man grinning broadly at him.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"You want to paint your feelings on the wall?" said Tremaine.

"Excuse me?"

"Look kid. It's not like I didn't notice when she dropped you off here when we were given this space. And after the first attack..." he made a whistling sound, to which Bale just put his box on the floor, lay back and rolled over, clearly upset at the ribbing. Tremaine let it die, and began digging into his own box. Bales thoughts were whirling, a churning of emotions, anger, fear, and... love? He thought of Heyanne, braver than he it seemed, willing to work in a place with no air, and only a suit to protect her. And here he was, a simple village fool a long way from home. The thought of home stung a little, but didn't carry the weight of homesickness past, which surprised him. Even thinking of his Mother didn't seem to evoke the same level of emotion, and he lay there thinking that was a sign of his own growing, and that he had been away far too long.


	22. Chapter 22

Bale had spent the jump brooding slightly, feeling trapped in box, without purpose and relying on others to get him where he needed to be. Heyanne was being worked hard, as she had stopped by early the next day, having washed and eaten, but tired nonetheless due to the pace of repairs. She briefly explained to him the necessity of meeting up with the Traveler fleet in order to affect repairs, and take on proper supplies. She also explained that they needed to replace two crew members, which was something Bale hadn't considered. On hearing the news, Tremaine had left the room, which Bale took as a sign that the man wanted solitude to reflect on their situation. Heyanne left shortly thereafter, leaving Bale alone with his thoughts.

Tremaine hadn't returned yet when the ship dropped out of FTL, the whine of power cycling behind the walls. Bale didn't bother to get up from his bunk, feeling tired of having his hopes dashed by the hand of fate. Moments after the dropped out, he felt the ship shake with a dull thudding noise, and suddenly they were back in FTL.

"All hands this is the Captain." came Carins voice over the speaker. "We're still being pursued by the Wraith vessel, and have taken minor damage on deck 4 forward, starboard side. Damage Control party report to Engineers Mate for assignment. Bridge out."

Bale lay there wondering if they would ever rid themselves of the Wraith menace. The chase seemed to be long and drawn out, which Bale couldn't fathom why. He hadn't seem even a quarter of the ship, but from what he could tell it wasn't nearly as big as the wreck they had captured him from. Carins voice interrupted his thoughts once more.

"Bale this is Carin. Everything alright?"

"Yes. Everything is fine." The level of frustration in his own voice seemed foreign, and a little off putting, but truthful. She took note of it.

"Don't let this get you down little man. I got word from the kitchen on your level that Prell is stuck there for the time being as door controls have failed from the last hit. Air pressure in your section is holding fine though so no worries."

"Great." Bale felt even more alone now, and just wanted the conversation to end.

"I'll let you know when you can move about, but for now just stay in your room. We'll have Prell back with you in no time. Carin out." The speaker clicked as it switched off, bringing Bale no small measure of relief. Not having Tremaine in the room was fine for now, as he didn't feel like speaking to anyone right now anyways. His thoughts were tied up in his state of being. Unsure as to where they were in the universe, he began to question whether he could make it home to Ariannia at all. He slept for a time, having no other recourse or activity since the room was sparse, and his things still hadn't been returned to him.

He dreamt of home, a warm sunny day. The people of his village were preparing for a festival, presumably to celebrate harvest as it seemed to be the right time of year. Banners were being hung from each home, and the village green was lined with tables, the ladies preparing some of the harvest to feed the throng that would attend the celebration. His Mother among them, gossiping and laughing with the other ladies. The men were busy installing long poles to swing lanterns from, and a platform for the few musicians the village had. Telric Marin, the village brewman, and his three apprentices set up the drink stall where ale and wine would flow free for the night. His big belly bounced as he shouted at them, directing their every move like the shrewd taskmaster he was. Bale could see his Father and one of the neighbours fitting a pole. Treely came striding in behind a score of village younglings, children younger than Bale, who were carrying armloads of flowers and branches. Some had buckets filled with berries, while several of the young girls had aprons filled with fresh mushrooms. In all, the activity of the village whole lightened Bales mood. He could smell the earthiness of fresh turned land on the wind, the scents of cooking, and heard much laughter from all around. Two children got into a shouting match about something across the green, and Bale tried to listen, but the words seemed wrong. He tried to stop Mephis as the man came up from behind him at a brisk pace, but something seemed wrong about him. The elder turned to regard Bale, but his face was twisted somehow, like the skin was stretched too tight, his scowl overtly angry. He watched as the older man separated to two boys, sending one home and handing the other off to his Mother. Who began shouting at him. Bale became confused more, not only because he couldn't understand what she was yelling at her own son, but by the fact that it was being done at all.

Shadows began to grow longer, and the crowd of noises he was hearing began to grow, incomprehensible to his ears. He could smell something burning. Something more than a cook fire, or the forge at the smithy, and looked around to find the source. He began to panic, shouting at the top of his lungs, seeing that the longhouse was engulfed in flames. Casting about, grabbing people trying to force them to look, villagers went about their day, laughing and shouting to one another, ignoring the biggest building in the village blazing, the heat now felt on his face. Bale was couldn't believe what was happening. He ran to Treely who leaned on his cane, and just smiled at him. Bale couldn't believe the insanity, as if some diabolical illness had wiped all common sense from the minds of his own people.

He began to run towards his Mother, but stopped dead in his tracks, frozen with fear. As she sat there, peeling the husk from some vegetables, a Wraith stood behind her, its mask grotesque in the now quickly lengthening shadows. Bale could taste dirt and rotten meat, smell the fire as it caught to another building, the others still oblivious. Bale began to scream, the sound of his own voice eclipsed by a cackle from one of the village women next to his Mother. His Mother looked up smiling, and saw him, waving as if nothing was amiss. In his ears Bale could hear the Wraith breathing, and watched it place its hand on his Mothers shoulder. He could see other Wraith standing beside other villagers as well, their black leather garments, and strange armor totally foreign to his home. Bale found himself once more, and began to run at the one behind his Mother, as the alien pulled her around roughly by her shoulder and struck her at the breast. Bale was still screaming as he watched his Mother shrivel, her skin drying out quickly, and her limbs shrinking. Her face began to become gaunt, then skeletal as her eyes sunk into her skull, all the while she laughed, and then suddenly began shreiking. Other Wraith were acting as well, taking their victims in turn, a ghastly scene of murder and plunder. His heart pumped heavily, thudding in his chest as he ran, and leapt towards the monstrous thing killing his Mother. He wanted to tear the thing to shreds, pull it apart limb by limb, and as he was about to strike, falling into the Wraith, he could hear the breathing change to the roar of the fires all around. Flying through the air his hands reached out to clutch the Wraith at the throat.

He slammed into the floor hard. There was someone shouting and a ringing going off somewhere around him. He opened his eyes, groggy not only from the sharp impact, but from a very deep slumber. The room felt like it was tilting, and there was a whine that grew louder over the sound of an alarm. Sparks dropped down from over head, and suddenly he felt himself being turned over. Tremaine was trying to grab him, shouting loudly, and over his shoulder Heyanne was standing watching, a mask of deep concern on her face. Something rocked the room, the vibrations transmitting through the floor into his body.

"Dammit Bale wake up!" shouted Tremaine.

"We can't stay!" shouted Heyanne. Bale protested briefly, and began to stand on his own.

"What's happening?!" he shouted trying to steady himself against the bunk frame.

"The FTL failed!" shouted Heyanne over the alarm. "We dropped out and the Wraith caught up to us! The Captain is trying to keep us from being boarded! The ships been damaged heavily! We need to get out of this section now!" Tremaine grabbed Bale, and shoved him towards the door and into the corridor. Something struck the ship again and the lights in the hallway dimmed. Strobes were whirling red as they passed through the junctions and corridors. They came to a sealed off bulkhead unable to pass. "We can't go this way." said Heyanne. "Door control is automatic in case of decompression." She turned and went back towards a junction they had passed, the other two in tow. Turning the corner, something struck the ship again, and Bale felt the impact through the soles of his shoes. A door at the far end dropped quickly into place. Cutting off the end of the corridor. Heyanne opened a hatch in the floor and yelled for them to follow. They descended two decks, the whole time Bale began to feel shakier, like the gravity was tugging at him from different directions. There was a hiss, and a gaseous cloud was vented from a pipe next to the ladder striking Bales leg. He suddenly felt very cold and let out a yelp. Heyanne gestured to Tremaine, pointing at a valve which he promptly shut. Bale risked looking at his leg which was coated in a white thick frost. He could still feel the deep cold in his leg, but could also will it to move. The made the rest of the descent getting pulled in various directions.

"The dampeners must be offline in this section!" shouted Tremaine, as Heyanne worked the door latch to the next deck.

"That's bad!" she shouted back. Bale was about to ask how bad when they were all suddenly pulled to one side. Bale felt the pressure build on one side of his body, as if his innards were being pushed out through his ribs. Heyanne was pressed against the wall hard unable to move. The pressure suddenly let up, and Tremaine let go of the ladder above Bale, dropping past him rapidly, barely landing well in the narrow space below. He finished unlatching the hatchway while Bale made his way down the ladder. Once open the noise was almost unbearable. Sparks, small fires, shouting, and alarms were going off everywhere in the large room. Heyanne pushed past Tremaine, and ran to one of the crew men, who promptly put her to work on another problem. He saw who was with her, scowled at the two supposed interlopers, and went to handle another crisis.

The alarms suddenly stopped, but the chaos continued for a few minutes more as crew members attacked fires with portable extinguishers, and helped injured personnel out of the space. Heyanne had her hair on fire briefly, until another one of the crew slapped it out. Smoke burning his lungs slightly seemed to hang in the air like a river fog. Bale began coughing profusely, nearing putting himself on his knees only to be steadied by Tremaine.

"You alright?" he asked. Bale nodded, continuing to survey the chaos.

"All hands this is the Captain." Carins voice echoed throughout the room as the crew milled about preventing disaster at every turn. "We lucked out and have rendezvoused with other elements of the fleet. The Wraith ship has been destroyed." A tired cheer went up from most of the crew present. "Damage Control teams report to your areas, and begin assessment. Hopefully this is the last one for a while folks. Bridge out." Bale stood there unsure what to do, trying not to breath in the smokey aromas of burnt equipment, and people.

"Crazy ride huh kid?" asked Tremaine, slumping down on the floor out of the way. Bale nodded absently as he watched Heyanne working to repair a console with another crewman. He noticed the man who scowled at them earlier at another console further down the opposite side of the room speaking into a device, and then looked up in their direction, still scowling. He pointed to two large men pulling a thick cable into the room, shouting at them. Not missing a beat, they placed the cable on the floor, and each grabbed the biggest tool they could find.

"You two!" shouted the sour man pointing at Tremaine and Bale. "On your feet you! Captain wants you in lock up. Now! Don't even think about picking a fight either." Bales spirit dropped as he was grabbed by the scowler. Heyanne had pulled herself out from under the console she was working on, only to see the pair escorted under guard out of the room.


	23. Chapter 23

They were marched through several corridors and down another two decks. This part of the the ship hadn't been hit too badly, but there were still plenty of people running, or limping, through their duties. At one point there were two teary eyed men carrying a limp, burnt body in the opposite direction, the smell catching in Bales throat enough that he gagged slightly. Tremaine just kept his own eyes straight ahead, not saying a word. They were placed in an empty room, as the Engineers Mate, the scowler as Bale had come to think of him, had tersely explained that the brig was cut off for the moment. He had also eluded to the possibility of a rather abrupt demise if they had anything to do with the Wraith that were in pursuit. The door shut and was locked from the outside, signaling Bale to begin panicking.

"Calm down kid. There's not a lot you can do about it." Tremaine said to him. "We'll just have to wait until the Captain comes down."

"Then what? A quick death in space?" Bale could feel the tears starting, and didn't want to admit to his own childish weakness. "I thought they were our friends."

"They may still be. The Travelers are a hearty people, and they don't take lightly to outsiders. The fact that they haven't done away with us yet is a testament to their spirit." Tremaine sat down on the floor opposite the locked door. "It's not like they aren't responsible for this anyways. They brought us on board." Bale sat down against the wall as well, and curled his knees under his chin. The tears he knew were evident then, and they flowed freely staining the knees of his pants. He didn't want to die here. He had never considered his end to be so far from his home, and so soon.

"I don't want to die." he said to no one in particular. He heard Tremaine get up and then sit down again beside him, his arm wrap around his shoulders.

"Don't worry kid. It won't be you who'll pay the price this time." Bale thought about that statement for a few minutes, wondering what it could mean as it seemed like Tremaine had done something terrible. A moment more, and feeling like he was putting two and two together, he was about to ask when the lock on the door snapped off. It slid open to reveal Carin and three armed crew members in tow, plus a skinny man with a box. Bale wiped the drying tears from his eyes, wondering if this was how it was to end.

"You know," Carin started, "ever since I had you brought on board I was trying to determine if I had done the right thing." She turned and looked at the man with the box and jerked her head. He promptly pulled a smaller box from the first and pointed it at them. "I mean, you were both stranded with no hope of ever finding a way off that rock. Your food supplies weren't reliable, and the boredom would have turned the two of you against each other eventually. So why not bring you up here?" The skinny man nodded. "Could you please sit apart? This isn't an exact science here." Bale looked at Tremaine, who gave a thin smile, and the two slid apart slightly. "When we brought you on board, you were both scanned for disease, weapons, anything out of the ordinary. Or so we thought. So after the second Wraith attack I started talking to my communications officer, and he ran some tests." The skinny man pointed the little box at Bale and frowned, shaking his head, and then starting on Tremaine.

"I think I know what you're looking for." said Tremaine. Carin smiled in a way that was not at all friendly.

"I think you do too Prell. It was no surprise when my officer found a very minute, but consistent sub space anomaly eminating from our ship. So small that he almost missed it. But he didn't..." She looked at the skinny man, who nodded to her gesturing at Prell, "...and I realized that after we had scanned all the material we brought on board from the ship we found you two in, there was only one conclusion."

"Maybe you should have asked before kidnapping us." said Tremaine. Bale was beside himself, unable to glean what they were discussing.

"Maybe." said Carin, her eyes narrowing dangerously in Tremaine's direction. "The better bet would have been to leave you there. After all why would I ever want a runner on board my vessel." Bale was confused, and he spoke despite himself.

"But I thought Tremaine was a Heracanian?" he asked, his voice raspy and on the verge of cracking. Carin looked at him, tearing her attention away from Tremaine.

"He is little man. But he was caught by the Wraith, and they put something in him to know his every move across the galaxy. Isn't that right Prell?" Tremaine just threw his hands up slightly signaling his acquiescence. "That's how they were tracking us." She shook her head slightly, then like lightening lashed out with her foot, catching him square in the side of the head, hard enough for it to bounce off his shoulder slightly. Bale's breath caught in his throat a little, as she knelt down beside him grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. His eyes rolled as he struggled to remain conscious. "You listen to me you bastard. Six of my crew have been killed since you've been on board, and you didn't even have the decency to say anything about the transmitter. I should have you thrown out the airlock." Tremaine groaned.

"If I told you," he slurred out "you would have killed me on the spot anyway." She slammed his head against the wall, and then stood up.

"Arrogant just like a true Heracanian. Like you know what I've got in store." She left the room with her entourage in tow, and the locks snapped into place on the door. Bale looked at Tremaine with confusion, unsure if he should trust the man or not for his transgression. Tremaine wobbled slightly, and looking at Bale, he smiled.

"Looks like her mind is made up." With that said he slumped sideways, passing out.

Bale sat there, feeling totally alone, while Tremaine snored, drooled, and occasionally twitched in a dream state. The light in the room flickered and dimmed once, then sprang back to life. Bale imagined it had something to do with the repairs, but the room was isolated enough that he couldn't hear anything, even the coursing power behind the walls. He paced, lay flat, stood, anything to help temper the nervousness he was engulfed in. After what he was sure was a few hours, the ships doctor showed up. She began poking and prodding at the sizable lump on the side of Tremaines head where Carin had kicked him. After much deliberation, she concluded that he would have a headache when he woke up, but not much else. She then looked to Bale, noticing the stain on his pants where the cold gas had hit him, and the subtle bloodstain which had seeped through.

She tried to make some measure of small talk but Bale wasn't having any of it. Only responding to her directive to 'drop his pants', then 'rub this on', and finally 'get dressed', before she left as abruptly as she had come. The salve she had him put on smelled medicinal, but was warming on his skin in stark contrast to how he sustained the injury to start. Not long after, Heyanne showed up with food accompanied by a guard. Bale wanted to smile at the sight of her, a small relief it wasn't his executioner, but the scowl on her face told him to wait. She placed a tray with two bowls of the same terrible food they had dined on when first arriving on the ship, and stood well away from the pair. Bale looked at her wanting to speak, to be close to her. Instead after an agonizingly long moment, she broke the silence.

"Carin said that you brought the Wraith to us." Bales heart sank hearing the bitterness in her tone. "She said that you knew."

"But I didn't!" Bale protested. "I had no idea that Tremaine..." She held up a hand cutting his plea short.

"It doesn't matter which of you had the transmitter. It was with you when you came on board." She turned and faced the other wall, as Bale stood. He could hear her sniffing, fighting back tears. Bale extended an arm and began to step towards her, but a sudden motion from her escort stopped him, and he backed off. "Taxus... My friend Taxus was one of the dead from the Wraith attack." She turned back, tiny streaks of tears wending their way down her cheeks. "If you hadn't shown up she would still be here."

Bale couldn't look her in the eye, her gaze too forceful, like it could hurt him, was hurting him. He knew that he didn't have any knowledge of the transmitter that Tremaine had yet to explain to him, but still couldn't help feeling involved.

"What's to become of us?" he asked with hushed words, not taking his eyes from the floor.

"I don't know." said Heyanne wiping tears from her face, and then to add to the hurt "I don't care either. I wish you never came here." With that she strode out of the room, the guard giving him a stone faced glare before shutting the door and locking it. Bale sat back down and looked at Tremaine. He wanted to feel angry that the man had ruined his friendship with Heyanne and possibly the Travelers as a whole, but knew that was false. His only feeling left was a lingering emptiness that was being filled with a small sadness at Heyanne's sudden and intense hatred of him. The unfairness of it all stung as well, knowing he had committed no transgression other than roaming with a now person of questionable morals. He resigned himself to the hands of others, knowing that he could do nothing about his current state, and opted to sleep, hoping that his situation would improve when he woke up.

He awoke with limbs flailing as something was grabbing at him. One arm, then the other became restrained as he was hauled to his feet by a couple of men. Carin stood in front of him, his pack looped over her shoulder. Behind her, Tremaine was being escorted from the room by three others. Their eyes locked for a second, and Tremaine had a grim look on his face.

"Hey! HEY! Where are you taking him!?" shouted Bale, struggling harder. Carin put up her hand.

"Easy little man! Easy!" She smiled at him, trying to assuage his vain attempt at escape. "I've decided to put Tremaine off the ship." Bales eyes went wide in panic. "Hold on! I said we're putting him off the ship, not out the airlock. I can't condone what he's done Bale, but I can't keep him here either. He's a danger to the ship." Bale stopped struggling at her statement, but still felt a hint of anger.

"Why can't you help him?" He said, his voice betraying his feelings. Carin's smile grew.

"Why indeed little m..." Bale cut her off.

"Stop calling me that. I'm not a little man." Carin straightened up, her smile shrinking.

"Fair enough. We don't have the know how to remove it. Doctor Leight has tried twice before, but both times her patients died. She's refused to try again, and I won't force her to." Carin nodded to the two men holding Bale to let go. Bale stood there glaring and rubbing his arms, but put up no further fight. Carin continued. "So since we can't help him, and we won't kill him for being what he is, I've decided that he needs to go. We're close enough to put him planetside on Black Island. There's a settlement there, and a stargate if he wishes to leave."

"What about me?"

"You dear Bale have a choice." Her grin returned slightly. "It seems your presence wasn't lost on Heyanne. She's still mad at you, but by her own admission she said she'd get over it in time. So now you have the option to leave with Tremaine, and take your chances on Black Island, or stay here and learn our ways." Bale was dumbstruck momentarily. The idea of traveling through space and possibly making it home that way was tempting, but Tremaine had helped keep him alive. They had saved one another more than once, which was something not to be taken lightly.

"How much time do I have to make a decision?"

"One hour. If you aren't on board the runabout in an hour, I'll assume you'll be staying with us." Bale nodded considering. He looked at his pack over Carins shoulder, and put his hand out.

"I'll need my things if I'm going then."


	24. Chapter 24

The hangar bay of the ship was a large empty space, save a shuttle craft and some tools on benches. At one end stood the doors which would allow them to leave the ship and head the the planet below. The three guards stood next to Tremaine, who looked more than ready to leave, waiting patiently for the Captain to give the OK to let him board the shuttle.

"You have a very loyal friend Prell. Don't take him for granted whatever you do." Tremaines eyebrows went up, realizing that Bale had decided to stick with him. "And as for you." she said turning to Bale. She held out his pack which he took and gave the once over, making sure his fishing rod was in good order, and that the book was unharmed. He was surprised to see a few cans of foodstuffs he hadn't seen before. He was pleasantly surprised that his bladder was filled with water as well. There was also a small envelope tucked away behind everything, but he decided to leave it until he was somewhere more private.

"Thank you Carin, for all that you've done for us." said Bale shouldering his possessions once more, feeling the comfortable weight. She smiled at him, then nodded to one of the guards. The man gave Tremaine his shotgun back, and several rounds of ammunition set into a new sling.

"Thank you Carin." said Tremaine. She nodded grimly to him.

"You're going to need all the help you can get Prell. Make sure you stay alive, and keep Bale out of trouble."

Behind Carin, Bale noticed Heyanne standing in the doorway of the hangar. Gamely he put up a hand, signaling his departure from her, to which she did the same in turn, her face a mask of sadness. Carin told everyone to embark, gave quick orders to the pilots, and bid them a final farewell before walking away to attend to the duties of the ship.

They boarded each taking a seat in turn facing one another in the back with Bale sitting next to Tremaine, and both across from two of the guards. The two pilots clambered into the cockpit, chatting between themselves while flipping odd looking switches and checking the strange instruments on the panel before them. The rest began to pull straps around their waist securing themselves to the seat. Bale tried to follow suit but in the end, Tremaine just did it for him, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder.

"You alright kid?" he asked, seeming to Bale to be in high spirits.

"Yeah. Just ready to get on with it I guess." Bale tucked the pack between his feet, unsure what flying in a shuttle would be like. "Have you ever been to Black Island?"

"Believe it or not, I have. It's one of the busier places I've been for sure. It's a large port that is a bit of a trading hub for this neck of the galaxy."

"How do they keep the Wraith away?" Tremaine was about to answer, when the man across from him spoke up.

"Don't let this place fool you boy. Black Island doesn't get attacked it's true. The reason is because of the Automaton. The Wraith know the cost of taking that thing on would be too high a price to pay." Bale seemed perplexed enough for Tremaine to explain.

"The Automaton is a device that was made by the Ancients as a sort of sentinel. It's the only one of its kind." He rubbed the lump on his head a little, to which Bale supposed was hurting still. "It automatically attacks any Wraith ship in the area, and destroys it quickly. The Wraith never really get a chance to do anything around here because the Automaton is so fast, and efficient."

"Why aren't there more of them? Sounds like the Wraith could be destroyed by a fleet of these thing easily."

"The tech doesn't exist to make them anymore boy." said the guard across from him. "The Ancients did a really good job making it. The problem is no one can get close enough to is to examine it. Anyone who does gets killed."

"So it attacks people too?" asked Bale feeling a sense of dread creeping in.

"Only if they get too close." said the guard. "The Automaton knows who's who in spaceships, and lifeforms. If you're anyone but the Wraith crewing anything but a Wraith ship, just fly right on by and enter orbit just like any other voyage." Bale nodded, considering the power of the Automaton, but had his thoughts interrupted when the shuttle began to lift. The motions of the little vessel were more abrupt and a little less smooth. So much so that Bale began to feel nauseous about halfway to the ground. Tremaine tapped him on the leg.

"You alright? Looking a little green there." he said. Bale could only imagine his pallor at that moment, but just shook his head a little, and continued trying to keep his empty stomach from doing sommersaults. The shuttle shook a little, bouncing everyone and everything in the ship, and Bale was sure that he was going to vomit all over the guard. The man apparently had the same thought, trying give him space for fear of being splashed with unpleasantness. Much to his satisfaction, the shaking tapered off rapidly, and they descended into an odd darkness. The windows on the little ship turned to an inky blackness, almost akin to a pool of water at the bottom of a well. A few minutes later, he could feel the shuttle bank and then imagined it to be slowing its flight, although he had no frame of reference for anything in the blackness. A small thud, and then one of the pilots signaled their landing, as Tremaine and the rest undid their waist belts and began standing up. He followed suit, trying not to move too quickly as he didn't want to excite his already churning stomach. The guards waited by the door, until something outside told them it was alright to open the hatch.

Outside Bale looked around as he put his pack on. The landing bay looked very similar to the Traveler ship shuttle bay.

"Looks like your color is returning a little." remarked Tremaine slinging his weapon. "Ready to get into the thick of it?" Bale gave him a sidelong look of confusion.

"Get into what? There's no one here." Truthfully he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Mostly just more than an empty room that smelled of burnt something or other, but the lack of anything extraordinary seemed to be disappointing somehow.

"Don't worry kid. I promise you that there's stuff to see here." He gave Bale a wink, and headed for the door at the far side of the bay. Bale followed and mused silently on what there could be to see and experience. The thought stuck him suddenly, and he realized that his goal of getting home seemed to be slipping away as he became resigned to a life of wandering. The thought made his stomach turn over, and he felt hot, but dismissed it as fancy.

As soon as the door to the landing bay was opened, Bale was struck by a wall of noise and motion. People were everywhere, shouting, moving, talking. A vehicle Bale could only surmise was some sort of automated wagon rolled past with a high pitched whine. Tremaine waited for a moment for the crowd to move on a bit before looking at Bale.

"What do you think?" Bale couldn't believe there were this many people in one spot. All were dressed in different clothes, an infinite array of colors before him. The vision and sound were almost enough for him to walk back into the landing bay to stifle the over-stimulation to his senses.

"Why are these people all here? Where do they come from?" His awestruck expression made Tremaine chuckle, and suddenly he felt like some sort of bumpkin who hadn't spent the last few weeks traveling.

"Well people come here to trade when they can. A lot stay for many reasons, chief among them is safety from the Wraith. This place has a few problems though. I'll explain when I find out if we can get some accommodations." They began walking down the side of the road, all the while Bale turned his head to take in as much as possible. There was no sky as the entire area seemed to be indoors somehow. Bale asked as much. "The entire planet is like this kid. We're just below the surface in a system of tunnels and caves that were hollowed out over centuries to make room for all that come here. To go out on to the surface would be deadly. The atmosphere would kill you, and even with protective clothing it would only be a matter of time." The crowd jostled and bumped in many places, as if there were far too many people in the immediate area. Many times Bale thought he would be separated from Tremaine, and spurred himself on when he began to flag. All it took was a few people to move between them, and Bale would start pushing people aside just like the rest of the throng. They stopped at a few places to inquire about a room, but for the most part the inns were filled, and the innkeepers just waved them off, only one or two suggesting other places they might have luck. They continued on after each rejection, Tremaine pointing out to Bale as he was on the edge protesting that it would do no good. The drone of the seemingly endless city numbed Baled to the point of nearly collapsing on the street, his entire being exposed to such levels of stimulation that seemed even more insurmountable than trying to stay alive on board a ship that was being slowly destroyed. After walking for a couple of hours straight, they finally ended up at a place called 'Sheridans' which looked like it been burnt to the ground, rebuilt, destroyed then rebuilt once more. From the outside paint which coated the stone facade peeled and cracked. Stains of various shapes and colors seemed to cover most of the ground floor of the building, and from the second floor people were staring down from windowsills, some shouting, some looking. One window to the left of the door produced someone making horrible retching sounds, and then vomit. Bale avoided the splashing of the vile acrid spew diving to one side. Tremaine's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the vomit splashed on his boots, then to Bale.

"Quaint." was all he said before heading inside. Bale followed, too tired to do naught but else. Tremaine was pressing a small button on the desk near the entrance, and a disheveled looking woman appeared from a room just behind. Her hair was shaved on one side of her head, while the rest appeared to be a mixture of brown and red which hung to one side. When she saw Tremaine she smiled revealing several missing teeth, which made Bale cringe. They haggled about a room for a few minutes, and finally settled on a price of two of Bales canned foodstuffs from the ship. When Bale placed them on the counter, wishing he wasn't losing something that was fairly useful for his travels, he noticed the woman wet her painted lips, as if she hadn't seen food in a fortnight. As soon as his hands were off the two cans the woman swept them to her side of the counter, eyed the pair nervously, and gestured for them to follow.

She led them down a narrow hallway to a room that was more like a cell than paid for accommodations. It had a narrow cot to one side, and not enough floor space to take more than five strides. A small sink and toilet were fixed to the opposite wall, which Bale could only guess was where the odour was emanating from. Tremaine thanked the lady and ushered her out. Before the door closed she looked at the pair again, to which Bale felt she was trying to memorize who they were. It was unnerving. Tremaine unshouldered his shotgun in front of her, and going wide eyed, she disappeared quickly shutting the door behind her.

"We'll only be here for one night. She'll wag her tongue for sure to try and find out who we are." said Tremaine sitting on the bed. "So won't find out anything though."

"She seemed... wrong?... somehow. Diseased? She grabbed the food awfully quick." Bale dropped his pack, trying not to spy what was floating in the toilet, opting to operate the flush. Tremaine nodded, and then shrugged a little.

"It's this place. Black Island for all its safety and trade, there isn't enough food coming in on the transports. People regularly starve in the streets. There's also a purge by the magistrates where people get arrested periodically, get charges trumped against them, and are then executed. They say it's for public safety, but truthfully to them its population control." Bale went wide eyed at this information, and Tremaine held up a hand before he could panic. "Don't worry kid. We're getting off this planet tomorrow. We just have to secure passage to Lockley township where the gate is." He began checking his shotgun over, making sure he hadn't lost any ammunition from the new sling. "That's one thing about the stargate here. They rigged it so that no one can come here through it, only leave." Bale let out a sigh, the concern for his own safety easing with Tremaines disclosure.

"So where are going to next?" asked Bale. Tremaine pointed to Bales pack.

"Well let's break out that book of yours and take a stab at it." Bale became happier at the prospect, smiling as he went for the tome. "Break out a can of that food too. We might as well eat before we end up using it as currency."


	25. Chapter 25

_Authors note : Chapter 25! It's kind of a milestone for me, and I was hoping to garner some reviews of my story so far. So please if you like it tell me. If you hate it tell me why. I'd just like to know how I'm doing so far. This chapter didn't go like I thought it was supposed to, and actually turned out better than I had hoped. I hope you enjoy!_

They had settled on a planet that the books previous owner had at least written about a pages worth of information on, to which Bale could never understand if the amount of information was a good thing. The few words Tremaine could recognize were promising, illiciting such tidbits as 'food', and 'metal'. They couldn't tell what anything truly meant which was frustrating, but at least they knew that the gate ended up somewhere. Once decided, they finished off their can of bean like vegetables that the Travelers had provided them, and reclined to their own thoughts. Tremaine had given him the bed, and had cleaned as good a spot on the floor as he could before laying down. After a while the silence made Bale twitchy, so he decided that now was as good a time as any to ask Tremaine about something Carin had said.

"Why did she call you a runner?" he asked staring up at the gray painted ceiling, noting the stains in one corner. Tremaine lay there, eyes still closed and answered.

"I'll start by saying that we'll never talk about this again. It's dangerous to mention runners on this planet, and if the locals get wind that I'm a runner I'll be killed quicker than you can blink. Agreed?" Bale recognized the dire tone, and acceded to the cautionary demand. "A runner is someone that certain Wraith leaders use for sport. We're hunted by them for pleasure." Tremaine sat up, and shuffled himself against the door to lean on it. "When I was captured, I was the only one of my entire crew left. The others were all used as food, but I was kept alive, only occasionally fed on a little, and then given the life back." Bales brow scrunched up in confusion, unsure how that could be done. "That's another story kid. Needless to say I was set aside for the hive leaders sport."

"What did they do?"

"So to be a runner, the Wraith need a way to find you. One day the guards showed up, beat me up a bit, and dragged me to some kind of lab. They strapped me to a table, cut open a spot on my back, and placed a small device inside me. I couldn't tell you what it looks like since I passed out during the surgery. The hive leader told me about it when they dropped me off on some random world. Now this device transmits a signal all the time, allowing the Wraith to track me anywhere in the galaxy. So when I end up in a spot they can get to quick enough, they show up, hunt me down, and and try to get me."

"But you've never been caught?" asked Bale curious as to what happens afterwards.

"Luckily no. If they had caught me they would most certainly have killed me. Now I've killed many of this particular Wraiths soldiers, and commanders, but that's only because I can be tricky. I use their arrogance and smug superiority against them. Really it's just a matter of time before my luck runs out." The look on Tremaines face was one of tired acceptance, and Bale wondered if he would become the same way after wandering the galaxy looking for home. A thought did occur to Bale.

"Why not just remove the device from your body? There must be a doctor out there somewhere who can get it out." Tremaine sighed heavily, beyond frustration and more weary of that line of thinking.

"You wouldn't believe how many people refuse to try for starters. Once they know what it is, I get chased by them, run off the planet and back through the gate like I'm some sort of plague carrier." He snorted realizing the black humour of it all. "Maybe they're right. Still some can't understand it enough to even make the attempt, more afraid they'll kill me in the process. You heard Carin when she told me her own ships doctor wouldn't touch it. That's what I'm up against having this thing in my body." Bale considered the conversation, imagining the trouble that Tremaine had experienced throughout his life. He decided to make mention of one of his own potential goals yet again.

"Maybe someone in Atlantis can help us." Tremaine shook his head staring off into nothingness.

"Atlantis is nothing but a dream. You might as well see the galaxy rid itself of the Wraith before you make it to that place." He laid back down again, putting his arms behind his head, and closing his eyes. "Take it from me kid. Atlantis is an impossible goal."

The next day they left Sheridans on their way to a transport station, pushing through the crowds milling about the streets like cattle. Bale was beginning to notice the pervasive stench about the town, and seeing the air moving above several grates in the road, realized that the amount of people in this place created an abnormal amount of waste and refuse. The planet was over populated, which meant the sewers were filled to brimming. The thought made him nauseous once more.

After an hours walk through the throngs of people, they arrived at a platform between two tunnels. The air on the platform moved somewhat constantly, spurred on by the breeze coming out of one tunnel, and into the one at the opposite end.

"What are we waiting for?"

"Train." was all Tremaine said, looking around with mild apprehension. He fidgeted with his shotgun for a moment, then realizing what he was doing, slung it over his shoulder. "When it gets here, the doors will open for about a minute. When they do, just go with the crowd, and don't stop whatever you do." Bale was having a hard time anticipating what Tremaine was referring to, but kept the mans words at the forefront of his mind. "Also if for some reason we get separated, just get off the train at Lockley township. I'm not sure how far out we are from it, but most of the trains on this planet end up there." After about twenty more minutes of standing amongst the hub-bub, the train came. He first felt the increase of air being pushed from out of the tunnel to his right, ruffling his hair. The crowd began to get tighter and tighter, as people pressed up against him. Bale couldn't see over the heads of those around him, and someone stepped in between Tremaine and himself. He heard Tremaine say to him loudly "Remember what I said!" The train then erupted from the tunnel and the crowd surged slightly. A gasp and a cry came from out of sight, as more than a couple people fell in front of the train, which didn't seem to slow it in the slightest. A second later, as the train stopped everyone was moving, crushing in as the doors along the tube like body opened. A feeling of claustrophobia began to set in as the crowd shoved, jostled, and poured its way through the smallish doors, bringing Bale along for the ride like a strong current on a river. He barely made it inside as the man behind him nearly got trapped in the door when it suddenly shut. The lighting inside was subdued at best, made even worse by the crush of bodies. Between a fat woman and a shorter man, he could almost spy Tremaine standing shoulder to shoulder with someone. Truthfully he couldn't tell as the entire tube was nothing but torso's and shoulders from where he stood, a barrier made out of live humans.

"Next stop : Trunbell." said a mechanical sounding voice over a speaker somewhere out of sight. The crowd tilted in unison suddenly as the train began moving, its speed ramping up quickly. Trying to avoid the stink of bodies, Bale tried to pull his shirt up over his nose. There was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned his head unable to do anything more, and looked at short man barely taller than himself. His black mustache twitched as he talked.

"You shouldn't do that young'n. You'll a pass out if'n you not ca'ful." said the man. His accent was odd and made it hard to understand, but after a couple of seconds Bale realized what he was saying, and let his shirt drop. "Pay'n attention to the speaker. Oth'wise you miss your stop." The man gave a thin lipped smile, and tipped his head.

"Thank you." said Bale, wishing that Tremaine was on hand close by. A minute later the train slowed and stopped, the doors opening opposite to where Bale got in. Thinking he was going to get relief and a bit of room, he got shoved in further by new passengers getting on. Frantically he scanned for Tremaine, who was only a few steps away when the crowd filled in every available space in the tube. The doors shut once more.

"Next stop : Hettystown." The process repeated at each stop, and in between the crowd flowing in and out, Bale made his way closer to Tremaine. At about the seventh stop, he was finally in reach, and close enough to talk.

"This is insane!" said Bale, nearly pressed up against the back of a very large and hairy man.

"Only another fifteen or so stops I think kid." replied Tremaine trying not to look at the incredibly ugly woman in front of him. Further down the tube there was suddenly a lot of shouting, as two man got into an argument. A fight broke out quickly and began to spread. Bale couldn't believe what he was witnessing, as there wasn't enough space to throw a punch between the bodies. "Cover your nose kid!" shouted Tremaine. He was about to ask why when he noticed a few other passengers pulling shirts up and closing their eyes. He quickly did the same, when her heard a hissing sound and smelled something that reminded him of burning. There were screams down where the fighting was, and a lot of coughing and hacking as passengers fought to get air. "Stay calm." said Tremaine through his own shirt, visibly sweating. A minute later the train came to its stop at the next station. The doors opened and there was a huge rush of air while people began to move. The combatants shuffled off under their own power, and a few were carried or dragged off making way for the next batch of human livestock. Tremaine was standing right next to him now.

"I don't know if I can take much more of this!" said Bale feeling totally beside himself. As the crowd finished pushing in, he felt like they were sent to steal all the air from his lungs. Tremaine just gripped his shoulder.

"You'll be alright. Just relax and don't move from this spot." he said.

"Next stop : Hoits." The train moved on. Stop, exchange passengers, go, and on and on. After another twelve stops, Bale felt like his head was going to pop.

"It's the lack of air getting to you. We've been on this train for what? A couple of hours? It's hard to tell." Tremaine reached up and rubbed his own temples, also succumbing to the effect of low oxygen. Bale swayed in place a little, trying not to breath too much, but just enough to keep him awake. It was another four stops before he heard it.

"Next stop : Lockley."

"Please say we're getting off there." said Bale.

"Yeah. That's our stop." was all Tremaine said. As the train pulled away once more, Bale felt like he was rejoicing a little inside at the thought of getting out of the tube. "Now when we get there, and the doors open, just head for back wall straight out from the door and wait until the crowd disperses. Alright?"

A few minutes later, the train stopped, and the river flowed once more, its currents carrying him out. Fighting his way through the crush and fatigue, and feeling like he was wading through mud, he made it to the wall like Tremaine told him. They had gotten separated once more, but once the platform began to clear he could see the man not more than ten paces away.

"Come on kid." said Tremaine beckoning for him to follow down a set of stairs. "There's fresher air away from here."


	26. Chapter 26

Lockley township was no better than the rest of what he had seen, the exception being was that it seemed cleaner and brighter. The people here were still milling about bumping into one another, and Bale began to feel that even safety from the Wraith wasn't worth the constant drone that never seemed to quit.

"Is where we're going far?" he asked, trying to recover some energy by imagining blue skies and quiet winds that didn't smell of sweat and garbage.

"It's not too far, but we might be spending a lot of time in a line up." replied Tremaine squeezing past a throng of people listening to a man shouting about workers rights.

"What do you mean?"

"A lot of people use the gate to leave. There's always a line up and it usually takes a day or two to get off world."

"We have to stay in a lineup for two days?!" Any recovered energy fled, and he felt wrung out once more.

"Maybe kid. Maybe. We won't know until we get there."

Another hour of walking, weaving their way through masses of people. Bale noticed on more than one occasion the presence of rabble-rousers shouting in front of crowds, who would every so often shout something back at their behest. Tremaine seemed concerned every time he saw one as well.

"There's a lot of unrest here it seems. It's a good thing we're leaving."

"Will these people get rounded up like you were telling me? Population control?" asked Bale.

"Likely. We shouldn't be anywhere near them when it does happen. Getting to the gate will help ensure our safety."

They arrived to a large wide open space, much larger than anywhere else on this world they had seen. The rocky ceiling was much higher than the areas they had come through, and was supported by massive columns of rock. There were a few buildings that stood out amongst the expanse, but the gate was the most prominent object. From where they stood, they could see it in the distance, casting its flickering glow as a crowd of people ran into the shimmering wall. Heartened slightly, Bale's steps grew quicker with impatience to leave this place. They came to a long line that passed through some arches where several guards kept people in line by any means. They tagged themselves on the end of one and moved forward about as quick as the seasons changed. They witnessed more than one beating while in the line, as those queued became agitated and started fights. Bale had never felt more tired than he was now, trying to muster whatever he could just to stay awake. At one point he fell asleep on his feet and tipped backwards into the person behind him.

"Hey! Get off!" shouted a dark skinned man behind them. Bale shuddered and woke, while Tremaine turned to check on him, his face looking tired as well.

"Sorry." was all Bale could muster.

"If you can't stay on your feet then get out of line." said the man. Bale noticed behind him two children, and a young woman watching the interaction transpire. Tremaine exchanged places with Bale, talking to the man, all the while keeping his hand on his shotgun. They swapped words for a moment and the man seemed to relent, giving Bale a squint-eyed look of disdain. It was sometime several hours later that they made it to a row of tables where workers processed everyone for travel through the gate. They were beckoned to one by a man whose sole purpose was to keep the line moving. Bale dragged his feet, as they approached, being directed by Tremaine as thinking was becoming more difficult. At the desk, the clerk didn't even bother to look up, and instead kept his eyes on the screen of his console.

"Number of transits, and destination?" he said, his boredom heavily apparent.

"Two. And we're not sure where this is." Bale didn't even feel it as Tremaine deftly undid the straps and plucked the book out from within, instead just wobbling in place. Tremaine opened it up for the clerk to examine the symbols of their agreed upon destination. He pressed some keys on the console and frowned.

"That's Yesteryear. Why the hell would you want to go there?" asked the clerk, annoyed.

"Why? What's wrong with the place?"

"That world was culled a while ago. Last time anyone went through the gate to get there was fourteen years ago."

"Is there any Wraith there now?" asked Tremaine.

"Last word we had was no, but that's all scuttlebutt. There's no one left there."

"Well do you know if the gate there is still operational?" More typing, the clerks expression unflinching.

"Yes. Last report we got was that it is. But that was a while ago. Again it's all scuttlebutt. We can't guarantee that the information is correct or current."

"Alright. We'll take our chances." They were both given a card, which Tremaine held on to both for fear that Bale would drop his in his near sleepwalking state. "We'll rest in a few minutes kid." he said as they were directed towards a holding area.

"Great." whispered Bale as he shuffled forward. The holding area was nothing more than a high walled pen that accommodated a crowd of about a thousand or so. With only one gate in the area, the locals made a queuing system in which any catalogued destination that queued the most people in a 30 hour period went first. That meant that any single destination whereby less than fifty people were traveling to would have to wait a day. In Bale's case, Tremaine explained that it would take a couple of days, but decided to look on the bright side.

"It'll give us a chance to rest. Most people just relax while they're here because the guards almost never bother anyone here, unless there violence of course. Otherwise people are constantly leaving this place, and the government wants to encourage just that rather than arresting and murdering them."

They picked a spot near a wall on the cool hard stone, and Tremaine took the time to clean his gun while Bale used his final moments to get the blanket out of his pack and curl up to a deep slumber. Bale wasn't sure how long time had passed, but his bliss was being disturbed. He cracked his eye to see a small boy attempting to rummage through his pack very slowly so as not to wake him. Bale damped down his anger at someone trying to rob him, and waited until the would be thief was close enough. Even with his muscles sore and tight from sleep on the hard ground, Bale had no problem reacting once the child had reached close enough, grabbing for an unseen thing inside one of the pouches. Bales hand shot out, grabbing the thief by the forearm and twisted with such force, it surprised even him. The child let out a small yelp, and fell on to his butt, held to the ground by Bale's grip.

"What are you doing?!" said Bale, wanting to yell. The child was dirty, like he had slept in a freshly plowed field. His hair was matted, making what Bale thought might be blonde, a rather patchy brown color. He rankled his nose at the smell of the child as well.

"I was just looking for food! That's all!" shrieked the child. "Honest I was!"

"Quiet down!" hissed Bale, realizing he was getting some looks. "Food?"

"That's all. I swear." Bale released the boys wrist, and wondered how old he was. Dismissing that thought, he pulled his pack closer to him while the child rubbed the blood back into his skinny arm. Bale handed the child one can of food, lamenting at how much his stocks were dwindling by.

"Now listen." started Bale, quickly checking the contents to ensure there was nothing else missing before working the straps back in place. "If you're traveling with someone else, you make sure you share that. And don't tell anyone where you got it. Understand?" The boy nodded, shaking a little dust from his hair in his vigor. "Now go." He gave another quick look at his bag, worried that he missed something.

"Feeling charitable were you?" asked Tremaine, who was seated, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

"He just needed a little bit."

"You don't have a whole lot left from what I saw. The Travelers never gave you much when you left anyways."

"I might not be able to trust him to keep quiet, but letting him starve? I don't think that would be right."

"Maybe. But it's not like everyone has a conscience. Especially here." Bale recognized Tremaines cynicism, having wondered about how he got that way. If anything he had realized that even during the short time they were traveling, he himself was changing. And not always for the better.

"Well we won't be here much longer will we?"

"Perhaps." was all Tremaine said. Bale wondered what Yesteryear would be like. Tremaine didn't explain why they were still going there even with the warning about the Wraith, but decided that his experience certainly exceeded his. It was another two days at least, and they were down to the last can of food, plus the dried goods he had gotten from Albertous back in Uriah. While they waited Bale watched the people coming and going, wondering where many of them were bound for. Some were dressed in a variety of long flowing skirts and woven trousers, while others wore more militaristic clothes, or nondescript attire, blending in with the various amounts of colors and styles. It was almost hard to watch in some cases as no one seemed to stop moving at any given time. Once in a while a few guards would come in shouting a word, which Bale figured out was a destination to be dialed at the gate. At once a crowd would gather and be escorted away, only to have their space filled by people coming in. Eventually a group of guards showed.

"Yesteryear! Hey Yesteryear! Who's going to Yesteryear!" Bale gave Tremaine a couple slaps on the shoulder, waking him up from yet another nap.

"Hey get up! They're calling our spot." said Bale. Tremaine stood quickly as the guards, began to wonder if anyone was going to report to them.

"Anyone for Yesteryear?" the guard shouted once more.

"Here!" shouted Tremaine. Bale threw his pack on, following Tremaine.

"You two are it?" said the guard.

"As far as we know." replied Tremaine adjusting his shotgun on his shoulder.

"Alright then. Follow us." The went to the base of the pedestal where another set of desks were setup, with clerks collecting the cards they were given. Tremaine handed the pair of cards over, to which the clerk scanned them, grunted something unlpeasant, and then ushered them on to the line that was climbing the pedestal towards the gate. Before they made it to the top, Bale could hear the stargate activated several times, each time a flood of people would go through and the line would move forward. Eventually it was just them standing next the console as the operator received the symbols at another desk next to it. He then dialed the symbols, allowing the gate to spring into life.

"Ready?" asked Tremaine.

"Let's get out of here." said Bale, glad to be moving on. The two plunged into the liquid light of the gate, feeling cold briefly as their bodies were thrown across the universe to Yesteryear.


	27. Chapter 27

Both Tremaine and Bale flew out the other side on to the ground, sliding through the dirt. Bale heard Tremaine shout, and felt his arm push against him as they slid. Once stopped he turned his head to see the edge of a cliff an arms distance away.

"Dammit." cursed Tremaine as he got to his feet. Bale stood up dusting himself off, and peered over the edge to see a chasm that appeared to have no bottom due to a layer of fog obscuring the view. "You alright?" asked Tremaine.

"I think so." said Bale checking himself over. He could feel the cold of the environment permeating his body slowly as he noticed his breath creating clouds before himself.

"Looks like there's a path over there." pointed Tremaine. "We might want to get moving before the temperature gets too cold."

The path was more a scar in the landscape, worn through use presumably, but as Bale remembered what the clerk had said, there wasn't anyone left on Yesteryear. With the lack of plants in the area their line of sight towards a small village was unobscured, revealing stone structures made from some kind of white rock. They trundled along feeling the cold penetrate deeper into them. Tremaine noticed that Bale was shivering.

"Unless there's a fire in the village, I'll have to pull the blanket out soon." remarked Bale.

"I don't suppose you have a coat for me in there as well?" Tremaine joked, puffing more warm vapor into the chilled air.

The village was empty, but more empty than Bale would have expected. They checked several structures, with Bale unwilling to split up from Tremaine as per the mans suggestion. The first village he had come to on his journey had sprung into his memory, the old feelings of queasy unease once again fresh. The sunlight overhead was beginning to die, casting shadows long and menacing, giving the stone of the buildings an odd smooth look. The white of the brickwork blending in almost too well. It made Bale seem small, like the hand of some sort of giant was closing on them, but they didn't fully know it yet.

"Not a soul around kid." said Tremaine rubbing his arms for warmth.

"The man back on Black Island said that would be the case."

"Let's try this house here." Tremaine indicated a small home across the way, its door banging gently in the rising wind. Inside was dark, save for the dying light dimly illuminating the inside through dirty windows. The furniture was still in good repair, although exceptionally dusty. Tremaine found a lantern that wasn't empty, giving it a small shake and nodding with approval.

"Here, giving me your flint." Bale produced the tool from his pack, and kept looking around while Tremaine struggled to light the lamp. There were books on the shelves, and a pair of cabinets at the far end of the room. In the shadow of its doors, Bale found various clothes, bedding, and other such things within the cabinet, suggesting the lives of those who at one time occupied the building. Their demise as told by the clerk on Black Island made him feel colder.

"Got it!" said Tremaine in triumph, as light blossomed and flickered from the wick of the lamp. Adjusting the knob slightly, the light cascaded over the entire floor of the home, allowing the pair to search more diligently. Tremaine stated their luck in no uncertain terms. "Looks like we lucked out in more ways than one." he said, moving to a small valve on the wall next to a large iron bowl set into some brickwork.

"What do you mean?" asked Bale.

"You see this." he said tapping the knob. "It controls gas to this thing." he indicated the bowl.

"So?"

"Well it means that we are likely to have a source of heat for starters. For seconds, no one left it running."

"I don't catch your meaning." said Bale, confused at what Tremaine was babbling about.

"If this was on, then the whole place would be filled with the fuel that would have exploded when I lit the lantern." Bales eyes widened at the realization. Tremaine found a sliver of wood in a small box next to the bowl, and lit it using the lamp. He tried to open the valve, straining with it as it had corroded shut. He did manage to crack it slightly letting the hissing sound of gas emanate from the bowl. Gingerly he stuck the burning ember close to the hole in the middle of the bowl, to which a column of flame erupted with a deep huffing sound. After adjusting the knob the flame damped down to one that seemed less apocalyptic somehow. "Oh ho! Now we have something to stay warm with for the night at least."

The pair prepared to stay, shuttering the windows and latching the door from the deepening cold, and any unknown assailants. Once settled, Bale turned his attention to the books, while Tremaine searched the cabinets for something warmer to take with them. Bale sat next to the fire, looking at one particular volume which had plenty of drawings of war scenes, and armies in combat. The color on the pages seemed washed out, suggesting the books were old. One scene showed a man an woman on thrones before an ugly white being, who was dragging another man by his hair. Around them were soldiers, armed but their expressions were ones of fear and panic. Bale wondered if the evil man was a Wraith. Tremaine dropped a couple of large coats on to the table in the middle of the room.

"This ought to help. You might want to try this one on to see if it fits." he said throwing a jacket to Bale. Bale caught it, placing the book down, and tried it on. The fur lining the heavy weave seemed to warm him quickly as he fastened it up, feeling how tight it was. Stretching a little, he felt the snug fit was alright for him as it wasn't too constrictive.

"There isn't much here." remarked Bale as he shrugged off the new old garment. "We should probably move on first chance we get."

"Yeah. Maybe. We should at least take a better look around when it's light out."

"What do you expect to find?"

"Dunno." said Tremaine shrugging. "Right now this place is as good as any. Plus there isn't a massive amount of people to deal with. We should enjoy the tranquility while we can." Bale sighed heavily.

"I don't know."

"What's the problem? You think you've got someplace to be?" Tremaines remark stirred the ire within.

"Yes. Home is where I should be. That's where I'm trying to get to."

"Home will still be there Bale. It's a big galaxy. Places are hard to pinpoint unless you know someone who knows the way."

"Well it's pretty clear neither of us do." Bale went back to looking through the book, unable to understand any of the words, the script meaningless scribbles. But the pictures spoke volumes. One image had a horde of what he determined were Wraith attacking a village, shooting people and dragging them off. The angry and fearful faces that were drawn on the victims told a story all its own. He was mesmerized by the artistry.

Tremaine took a brief interest in what he was looking at, going so far as to leaf through one of the books himself, but eventually succumbed to sleep. There were beds behind a pair of curtains, to which he cleared and took the larger of the two. Bale eventually did the same cleaning the old bedding off the mildly damp mattress, and rather than using blankets from the cupboard, opted instead to use the one from his pack. In the flickering light of the fire bowl, he lay listening to the gentle sound of the night wind skirling its way through the buildings, rattling the shutters. His reverie was only somewhat interrupted by the occasional snoring and snorting of his cohort, which reminded him of home once more. After an indeterminate length of time, his eyes shut and he descended into the clutches of slumber.

"Hey. Wake up." Bales eyes cracked open, only to shut again tighter as sunlight streamed in from a window directly on to his face. "Come on, kid. Get up. We've got things to look for."

"Just give me a minute." said Bale, rubbing his eyes slightly. "What time is it?"

"Mid morning would be my guess." Tremaine yawned. "Seems we were both tired from our time on Black Island." Bale sat up stretching, and feeling the satisfying pull of his muscles unbinding themselves. The room was still relatively warm, enough so that Bale felt wet from his own sweat.

"We should eat first." he said, digging through his pack.

"Save it. We should see if there's something worth getting around here rather than dig into the last of our supplies." Bale looked at the last can of food he was holding. He shrugged and put it back, unable to counter Tremaines opposition.

Opening the door, they found it had snowed during the night. The village was awash in a brilliant sea of white, as snow coated everything horizontal. The sunlight blazed off the pure white of the cold powder, hurting their eyes slightly.

"Damn it's freezing!" remarked Tremaine. Bale walked back inside, grabbing the jackets and handing him his. The fur lining within warmed Bales body quickly, allowing him the ability to stop shivering.

"Alright. Where to, and what for?" asked Bale, his breath a thick cloud heavy in the crisp air.

"Let's try that big one over there." said Tremaine indicating the largest building in sight, on the far side of the village.

They spent the rest of their morning going from building to building, finding much of the same scene. The village was very neat and orderly for a place that had been violently stripped of life years prior. Some places even had thinner layers of dust, which Bale wondered if it could be due to the near constant wind. He mentioned it to Tremaine, who nodded thoughtfully but said nothing. Anything that might have resembled foodstuffs at one time had rotted away, or were downright inedible, save a cupboard they had discovered that was filled with jars of a preserved sweet fruit. The two planned to split a jar after Tremaine had tested it the hard way, popping a piece of the orange fruit in his mouth before Bale could protest. They opted to take it back towards the building where they left the fire burning. Squinting as they went, they were nearly to the door when Bale stopped. Tremaine turned and looked at him, seeing the curious expression on his face.

"What?" he asked impatient for the food in his pocket.

"Look." said Bale, gesturing with his chin towards one of the windows down from the door. In the snow was a set of footprints ending at the window, then continuing on along the building until it intermingled with their own trail. Tremaine unshouldered his shotgun, checking it quickly.

"Stay here." he said. Bale turned in place, looking for any other sign that someone was there. Tremaine entered the building, leaving him standing in the middle of the road puffing tense breaths into the chilled air. After a minute, the man re-emerged shaking his head. "No one in there."

"That's because I'm over here." came a new voice.


	28. Chapter 28

Tremaine quickly pointed his shotgun at the newcomer, who was peeking out from behind the corner of a building behind them.

"Don't shoot!" said the man. He was dressed in a long hooded white coat loosely fastened as it flapped in the gentle breeze. His white pants were also loose fitting, giving his form a slightly distorted look. Bale stared curiously at the mask the man also wore, its smooth white form almost indistinguishable from their surroundings. The intruder looked at them through small cuts in the mask, Bale seeing the barest glint from them.

"Who the hell are you?" shouted Tremaine, his shotgun still aimed at the mans chest.

"My name Ghoma Wilt. I live here."

"You live here alone?" asked Tremaine, stealing a sideways look.

"Yes. I am the last." Ghoma stepped out from behind the building, with his hands up and empty. "See? I am unthreatening." Bale looked back at Tremaine, who slowly lowered his weapon frowning.

"Pleased to meet you Ghoma. My name is Bale, and my friend there is Tremaine. We're traveling." Puffs of snow kicked up as Ghoma dragged his feet through the small drifts, the dry powder dispersing into the cold air.

"It has been a very long time. Yes. Very long since someone has come here."

"We weren't planning on staying long." said Tremaine.

"Oh! Oh but you must stay a little longer, yes?"

"Well this place was only supposed to be a stop." said Bale awkwardly. He could feel something wrong with Ghoma, but unable to pinpoint it. Like someone who was sick, but never showed any symptoms.

"Please. Please you must stay. I need to know things. Things that you can tell me about that are happening elsewhere. It's been so long." The note of desperation in Ghoma's voice was troubling, and Bale looked to Tremaine.

"Very well. Just a night, and I'll fill you in on what we've run into." said Tremaine. Bale could tell he wasn't happy about it, but couldn't find a reason not to.

"Joy!" shouted Ghoma. "Please go into the warmth the Hunis home where you were. I'll be back very quickly with things for eating and happiness." Ghoma shuffled off before Tremaine could protest. They went into the house, feeling the warmth of the flames still keeping the room amicable.

"There's something wrong with him." said Bale.

"I know. Maybe because he's been alone for a long time." Tremaine said. Sighing he continued "Just be careful what you say, and do. Keep an eye on him at all times." Bale nodded grimly. They decided to eat the fruit they had found before the strange man returned, wondering if they were being set up somehow.

Sometime later the strange man returned, a stitched leather sack over his shoulder.

"I have many things to eat. You want to eat, yes?" said Ghoma, placing the sack on the table, opening it to rummage through.

"We can eat." said Tremaine sitting on one of the benches nearest the fire.

"Good. Good."

"Do you ever take your mask off?" asked Bale. Ghoma froze in place momentarily, then continued by pulling various jars and small boxes from the bag.

"Sometimes. The mask keeps me from seeing it."

"Seeing what?" asked Bale, cautiously curious.

"Maybe... Maybe later, yes?" he doffed his long coat, placing it on the end of one of the benches. "Eat soon, yes? I will make you some very good Gilder roast, yes? Please tell me of your travels and the worlds beyond."

Bale resigned himself to being the one who would talk, while Tremaine carefully watched everything that the odd man was doing, his hand never far from his shotgun. He spoke of his first encounter with the Wraith, which elicited a fearful hoot from Ghoma.

"The Wraith are a scourge, yes? They take everything, everyone. Took everyone from this place in a night of terror. Did you know?" He mixed spices with some ground up meat in a large iron pan, placing it over the flame and adjusting the valve.

"We had heard..." started Tremaine.

"Please continue, yes?" Bale picked up his story from where he left off as Ghoma chopped up some strange red and green vegetables, quickly throwing them into the meat. The scents within the room became spicy and pungent almost burning Bales nose. The mixing of the meat seemed to bring out more of the smell, which Bale quickly became used to. Ghoma giggled at the mention of the beast which Bale had managed to kill in the crashed ship.

"I would have fled surely. Such a creature must be terrible to be so quick, yes?" said Ghoma, running to the door with a cup, and quickly returning with melting snow. He promptly threw it into the pan, the sound of immediately evaporating water drowning out all other noise momentarily. "You must be very brave." Bale continued on, talking of the Travelers, and Black Island. He felt flushed from the spice and heat of the room, but was satisfied that his account had omitted mention of Atlantis.

"So I've told you about our journey." began Bale. "What can you tell us of your home?"

"My home?" said Ghoma, stirring the meat as it sizzled slightly. "No. No. Nothing happens here. No. The village is empty. You have seen this, yes? The Wraith have taken all that is wonderful and dear from this place."

"Do they ever come back?" Bales watched as Ghoma slowed his stirring, his mask surely concealing thoughtful eyes.

"No. Yes. Yes they've come once in a while. But never stay. My home is too cold for them, yes?" He began to open some of the cupboards, eventually finding some wooden plates. "The food is almost ready. Almost. Just need to clean these for eating, yes?" He outside, which prompted Tremaine to follow by watching him through a window as he piled snow on top of the plates and wiped them off with his hands. He returned dripping snowmelt on to the floor. "There. All clean for our eating, yes?"

Ghoma finished cooking the meat, and placed some on each of the three plates. The smell of the food as it was placed in front of Bale, made his nose run automatically.

"What is this?" asked Bale looked at slightly burnt pieces of vegetable, intermixed with the juicy looking browned meat.

"Gilder roast!" exclaimed Ghoma sitting on the opposite side of the table. "My own recipe, yes? There is many flavors in the meat now that I have added Wenty and Jurric spice." Bale looked at Tremaine, unsure if he should partake. Tremaine nodded, his lips a thin line.

"Let's eat then." said Tremaine, taking a small amount in his fingers and placing it into his mouth. Bale noticed his hand on the shotgun between them as it lay on the bench. Bale fingered through his meal for a moment watching Ghoma, whose smooth blank mask hid any semblance of emotion. Tremaine chewed loudly then swallowed, shaking his head as the perspiration beaded up on his lips.

"Wow. That's hot." he exclaimed. Ghoma clapped his hands together joyfully.

"It is wondrous, yes? The Wenty brings the hotness, but the Jurric is where the flavor is. Please. Eat." said Ghoma gesturing for Bale to try the spicy food.

By the end of the meal, Bale had gone outside twice to eat a small bit of snow to cool his tongue. Ghoma had only slipped the mask up enough to reveal his chin, sliding his hand up and under to deposit food into his unseen mouth. He told them of the night the Wraith came, appearing from the sky as their ships scooped people up as they ran. Their foot soldiers had also gone house to house, dragging off kicking and screaming those who were still alive. As he had described it, there was no mercy.

"I cleaned the bodies of the rest, and gave them peace. Yes. They rest now outside the village." he said, his head bobbing slightly. "The Wraith do show from time to time but they never find me. I'm too good at hiding, yes?"

Ghoma stood and began packing his things up, placing his goods and wares back into the sack.

"I must go for the evening. I have medicines I must take, or my body will suffer." he said placing a jar into the bag.

"Does it have to do with why you're hiding your face?" asked Bale plainly.

"Why do you ask?"

"You said earlier that the mask kept you from seeing it. What is it?" He could see Ghoma's shoulders sag, the weight of the question being one which he disliked but couldn't seem to avoid bearing.

"Very well." said Ghoma. "I shall show you the true nature of my curse." Reaching behind his head, he tugged at a strap with a small snapping noise. Slowly he pulled away the mask. Bale couldn't help but gasp, the grotesque face in front of him. Tremaine sat sullen, his mouth tightening to keep whatever curses he may have exclaimed under wraps.

Ghoma's face was ruined to a fault. A scar ran from the top of his nose, under his left eye down to the gap where his cheek should have been. His nose was half gone, as was his cheek exposing the sinuses beneath. What was left of his back teeth were very easy to see as his mouth extended back to where the jaw connected to the rest of his skull. Drool dribbled along his jawline, glistening in the flickering light of the flame.

"You see? It is not good, yes? It is always as I am."

"I'm sorry I... I'm sorry." stammered Bale, unable to keep his discomfort at bay.

"It is well young Bale. I am alive, yes? This was a gift from an enemy long ago that I had overcome. Now I remain as I am." Ghoma slipped the mask back on, snapping the strap back into place, and quickly finished putting his things in his sack. Shouldering it, he moved to the door, but stopped suddenly, and looked at the two of them. "You will be here in the morning, yes?"

"We'll be here." said Tremaine. Ghoma nodded and quietly left. Once the door was closed, Tremaine waited a moment longer and checked through the window. Satisfied the strange man wasn't lurking about, he let out a breath as if he had been holding it for the entire afternoon. "We need to get out of here tomorrow."

"I think you're right." said Bale slumping down on to the bench. "What could have done that to his face?"

"I couldn't tell you kid, but I think whatever happened affected his mind as well." Tremaine checked his shotgun for seemingly the umpteenth time. "It's still early. We could go look for some more useful things."

"I don't think it would be worth it." said Bale trying to get the image of Ghoma's face out of his memory. "Better to stay here and wait for one more day. We haven't decided where to try next."

They decided on the latter course, opting to pick another address from the book in an attempt to find a more amicable place to be. They settled on an address although the page had no recognizable words about the place. It was better than nothing. Afterwards they looked through some more of the volumes in the house, stacking them on the table, until the sun had begun to drop low once more. Tremaine had decided to stay up a little later just in case Ghoma made an unplanned appearance. After a lengthy time, he braced the door with a chair he found, and lay down for the night.

There was a loud pounding at the door. Bale woke, the fog of deep sleep holding him in its clutches as he tried to waken.

"Wha?" he said, the pounding continuing. Tremaine grabbed the shotgun and headed for the door.

"Who is it?" he yelled through the heavy timbers.

"It is Ghoma! Quick! We must hurry!" Tremaine shook his head, cursing to himself quietly as he moved the chair aside, allowing the strange man entry.

"What's going on?" asked Tremaine, his finger on the trigger, weapon held low.

"The Wraith. They are outside the village and coming this way." Ghoma panted. We must get you to the stargate, yes?"

"Wraith? Where did they come from?" asked Bale shrugging the heavy coat on.

"I told you they come from time to time. Now they are here. We must hurry before they search the village." Ghoma's aggravated state served as the catalyst to wipe the last of the heaviness from Bales body. He moved quicker but not quick enough for Tremaine.

"Get dressed on the move kid." he said, throwing Bales pack over his shoulder, and picking up his coat in the other hand. "Let's get out of here."

Ghoma was gesturing to the pair to follow quietly, but was several strides ahead as the snow did not seem to hamper his gait in the slightest. Bale had to punch through some drifts that had sprung up during the last snowfall, slowing him considerably. Even Tremaine for all his strength and size had some difficulty pushing through the heavy powder. As the ascended the hillside presumably taking the same path they had first walked from the gate, unable to see it from the snow cover. Bale looked over his shoulder seeing lights in the village wandering from place to place. He allowed his own fearful thoughts to spur him on. Tremaine was getting further and further ahead.

"Wait!" he hissed, bounding through another drift. "Wait for me!" Tremaine turned around gesturing with his shotgun in the near dark for Bale to hurry up. He could hear the grunting and shouting of the Wraith behind him. They had seen the foot prints, and knew someone was here.

"Hurry up kid." said Tremaine pushing him along. They could finally see the gate standing as a monolith on the plateau. At the console, Ghoma was rapidly pressing buttons. The gate erupted to life, spewing its liquid light out, the sparkling of its surface dancing off the snow and ice.

"Where does this go?" demanded Tremaine.

"There is a safe place beyond, yes?" said Ghoma, shifting from foot to foot as he looked down the path. "The Wraith will not find you there."

"But where is it?" asked Bale. "What's there?" A bolt shot past them, slipping through the light of the gate. Then another. Tremaine turned and started firing.

"No time to wonder kid! Just go!" Tremaine grabbed Bale by the arm and pulled him towards the gate. Before they were enveloped by the dazzling illumination, Bale noticed that Ghoma was not moving from the console. They plunged in, the cold of gate travel sinking into their bodies for a mere moment.

On the other side, they emerged stepping quickly down the pedestal away from the glow of the portal. Several Wraith were standing near by. One turned and fired its weapon as Tremaine tried to push Bale aside, but inadvertently set him directly into the path of the stun blast. Bales entire body seized, and then went numb as the shock passed through him. Before he passed out he could hear the blasts from Tremaines shotgun, and his friend shouting his name in a panic.


	29. Chapter 29

He awoke in darkness, the chill of the unknown place seemed to be heightened by the fact that there was no light. His head pounded as his eyes tried to adjust, and he felt the cold, hard ground beneath him.

"Hello?" his voice echoed, dying away in the near dark.

 _Am I dead?_

As his eyes focused, he realized that it wasn't completely dark, as a dim light seemed to illuminate everything. The walls were made of stone, gouged out to create the small room. Sitting up made the headache worse, so he opted to move slowly in order to stifle the discomfort. He could see the only way out, a doorway barred by some strange looking rocky material. His last memory of being hit by the Wraith weapon, flashed into his mind, and he quickly patted himself down, looking for a wound, but found none. He stood and made his way to the door, and touching it realized that it looked like something solid, but felt leathery. He tried to tear at it, groaning against the strain, and quickly realized how futile it was.

"Anyone there?" he said louder. The area beyond the portal appeared to be a network of passages with hallways that spidered out from his cell. Unsure of what to do he sat down, lamenting the absence of his backpack, and wondering if Tremaine had gotten away. After some time, he heard a distant noise echoing through the passages outside. Standing once more he listened intently, trying to discern what it meant. The noise became clear as footsteps, lots of them as it rose to become more a shuffling and scraping sound. There was some talking and an occasional shout, but mostly just the footsteps. He went to the door looking out, and began to shout.

"Hey! Anyone? Help!" He waited hearing only the echoing sound of his own voice, and the shambling rhythm of many feet. It wasn't much longer until a Wraith guard appeared from one of the hallways, accompanying another. Where the guard was masked with its grotesque mottled plate, its companion was one of the few ghost faced things he had seen in his travels. Bale stepped back, pressing against the wall as he tried to stay out of view. The Wraith knew he was there, and came straight to the cell, peering in at him.

"You." it rasped, its voice conjuring up images of dead leaves and rot. "Come here." Unsure, Bale complied slowly, his heart attempting to jump out of his chest. So long as the door remained closed he thought, he felt he should be safe. "You are new here." it said, grinning at him with jagged teeth. "You will be given a task in the mine, helping to get materials for us. If you do well, you will be fed at the end of the day. If not, I will delight myself with feeding from you." Bale understood the warning, but felt bold enough to make his own demands.

"Where's my friend? What did you do with him?" he said, feigning defiance.

"Ah. Your companion got away. He killed many of our soldiers. But I am told by one of my hive mates that he was a runner. So I'm sure he will pay a price eventually." It smiled terribly at him, drooling slightly. "I am very patient." Behind the Wraith some men entered through another tunnel, fanning out and ignoring the two. The Wraith turned, his mere presence parting the crowds of disheveled looking men as if a stone in a river of bodies. They went back the way they had come, leaving only the mass of humans to mill about. A ragged looking man stepped to the door, gaunt and hardened from cruel treatment. He looked at Bale sternly.

"Back up from the door." Bale did so as the leathery looking mass slid open, allowing several dirty and mean looking men into the cell. None said a word as the filed in, including the one who appeared to have opened it. They all picked a spot on the floor and lay down, barely looking human as their skin hung loose on many, their bodies thinned from long periods of malnourishment. Bale watched the man who spoke to him sit on the floor next to the door, yet opposite of himself. The door shut making a scratching sound as it did so.

"So you're new, huh?" said the man, running his fingers through his thin, wispy beard.

"Yes. My name is Bale." He sat down, bringing him more to eye level with the man. "What is this place?"

"This boy, is a Wraith mine. They've brought us here to slave for them, getting raw material for their purposes."

"Does anyone ever get out?" asked Bale.

"Not that I know of. I've been here a very long time, and have never heard of anyone making it out." The man began to lie down, curling up on the stone floor as he attempted to settle his worn out clothing into a more comfortable position. He yawned, adding "You should get some sleep. We'll be back slaving again in no time." With that he closed his eyes, and within a moment appeared to be fast asleep. Bale sat there for a while, grateful that he was in the company of other humans as he listened to the snoring and occasional panicked shout from a nightmare. He did eventually fall asleep leaning against the wall, only to be re-awoken by shouting and shuffling. "Hey get up. It's time." said the man.

"What's going on?" asked Bale, standing slowly as the muscles in his body seemed to protest slightly.

"Work time boy." Bale followed the man out, blending into the crowd of bodies that were making their way slowly into a series of tunnels and caverns. As they shuffled along, occasionally someone would tug at Bales clothes, seeing that they were new. At one point a wiry looking man began clawing at his shirt in an attempt to rip it off his body. His new companion helped Bale shove the crazed person away, only to see him get hit with a stun bolt from one of the Wraith guards. The man ushered him along with the rest, not bothering to worry about what happened to the attacker. "Don't stop boy. You'll be trampled, or fed on for sure."

"You never told me your name."

"You never asked." They moved through the press of the crowd, until eventually the man pulled him aside into a small alcove cut into the wall. "My name is Martel. Look... Ah... I don't normally help people that show up here. But... Just follow along and do what I do. I don't want to end up under the light of the final judgement with the death of a child on my hands." Martel seemed nervous, now that his truth had come to light. It didn't take Bale long to see why he would be reluctant.

In between bouts of near riots, and the Wraith stunning the transgressors, Bale was put to work pushing a wheelbarrow after Martel and two other men had filled it with rocks and debris. He hauled it to a chute just up from where they were digging, dumping the earth and rock on to a slope only to be piled up at the bottom where it was sorted by others on to a long conveyor. Bale was used to hard work, but he was also used to breaks and proper meals. Within what seemed minutes, his stomach was growling, causing one of the shovelers to cackle at his misfortune.

"Pay him no mind boy. You'll get used to the hunger." said Martel.

"When do we eat?" he said wiping an in ordinate amount of sweat from his filthy brow.

"Won't be for hours yet I'm afraid. The mule will be around with water soon though I'm sure." It would be a lot longer than he had hoped. A man eventually showed up bearing a cart with a set of barrels on it. The work didn't stop as he doled out small cups filled with dirt filled water. Bale almost didn't drink, but his thirst demanded, and he downed the gritty fluid as it was handed to him, coughing slightly. "Feel better?" asked Martel flinging another shovel full of dirt on to the barrow.

"No. This is terrible."

"Well like I said don't stop. The day will be over before you know it." Bale had started crying on more than one occasion, not just because he was sore and tired, but also because of his predicament. Trapped in a mine underground, somewhere in the Galaxy far from home, and his only friend had managed to escape taking all that he had. Despair was a very real thing. The crowd had stopped at the sound of a metal bell being rung, echoing through the deeps. Tools were left in place, stuck into the ground as if a strange graveyard, while the men played as ghosts shuffling their way back to the sleeping quarters. They detoured to a large wide open place where several large cauldrons were attended to by men wearing cloths over their faces. Men everywhere lined up, some jostling for a place closer to the cauldrons starting fights which were quickly ended by the guards. One man was fed upon by a slender Wraith, and his shriveled corpse was left on the ground amongst the line ups as a reminder not to make trouble. As Bale passed by, he could see the full effect of the Wraith feeding method, the terrible sight of decayed, and diminished flesh ripe in his memory. As they approached he watched as a man stood in front of the cauldron holding up a bowl, which the masked man behind slopped something into it. The man consumed the food, nearly in one gulp, and then handed the bowl to the next, walking away under careful observation by the guards. When it was Bales turn, he did the same as what he had seen repeated. The gruel was almost inedible, and so hot that he burned his mouth. Quickly he handed the bowl to the next man while he fanned his mouth, almost vomiting from the vague flavour of dirt that hit his taste buds. Martel stole up behind him, nervous that Bale should be wandering away without his guidance.

"Be careful boy. If you go the wrong way you'll be killed for sure." He pointed towards the exit, and steered Bale along. "This way back to the cells."

Once they had gotten back into the cell, Bale flopped down on his knees while other men filed in behind him, taking up space wherever they could find.

"I could sleep for a month." remarked Bale.

"You won't get the chance boy. We'll be up before you get a chance to dream about life elsewhere. But don't let that stop you from trying." Martel clapped him on the shoulder, seemingly more at ease now that they had stopped for the day. Bale collapsed against the wall, trying to find a way to be comfortable. He began crying once more reviewing the days labors and madness in his thoughts.

During his first day he had seen several fights break out, mostly over scraps of food someone had kept hidden, smuggled out of kitchen by the masked men no doubt. Others quarreled over trivial reasons, while other still just used an opportunity to inflict violence. One man was killed when another stuck him with a shovel. Bale had come to understand that it was man against man in this place. The memory of the Wraith victim was the worst, and caused him no small measure of trepidation as he lay there wishing for the nightmare to be over. He did eventually find sleep, only to be wakened once more by the movement of thousands of feet. The cold of the underground had caused his muscles to stiffen terribly, and as he stood he could feel the cold of the mine not only seep into his body, but begin its horrible invasion into his own heart and soul.


	30. Chapter 30

Martel had finished dropping his shovel full into the wheelbarrow, giving Bale a tilt of his head signaling to take it away. Bale had endured what he believed to be several days worth of labor, seeing no end in sight as his toil continued. At the end of each day he would be rewarded with sludge that he gulped down voraciously, and an immeasurable amount of sleep as time had no place in the dank underground.

He dropped his load of rocks and small boulders, taking only enough time to wipe the sweat from his brow before heading back, weaving through the other barrow pilots as they moved to drop their dirt and rock as well. Two men began fighting with each other, one clawing at the others eyes, while they grappled. They plowed into Bale, pinning him against the wall in their efforts to win. Bale got elbowed hard in the jaw as he struggled to push them off. He had barely managed to separate himself from the melee, when a stun blast caught the pair. Two Wraith guards stared at him, unsure what to do when their white faced commander appeared on the scene. Bale attempted to distance himself more when the lead Wraith regarded him with a sneer.

"Get back to work slave!" he shouted, his voice grating against Bales nerves. Recovering his wheel barrow, he slinked off back towards Martel trying to make himself as small as he could. He slumped down behind the barrow once he had returned, trying not to think about how close he was to losing his life. Martel cuffed him on the shoulder.

"Get up, before the guards see you." he said looking around nervously. "You need to take care of yourself boy. I know you've seen how cruel this place is. The only way to survive is to steel yourself." He lifted Bale back up on to his feet, picking up his shovel once more and quickly filling the box on the wheel barrow, sent Bale off once more.

He slaved along, lugging, lifting, hauling. It had become his never ending torment, and the wheel barrow some sort of cruel device designed to hunch his back to the point of breaking. At the days end he found himself prostrate on the floor of the cell, the gruel still hot in his ever empty innards. Martel reclined next to him, the barest sense of warmth issuing from his body as the larger man lay next to him.

"Martel." whispered Bale. The man gave a muffled sound, acknowledging the summons. "Do you think of home?"

"I do. On occasion." said Martel sleepily. "I wouldn't recommend it though. It will drive you into madness."

"I don't think I would want to forget home." said Bale sounding thoughtful and tired.

"I didn't say forget boy. Just... try and keep your memories contained. It's the only thing the Wraith can't take from you." Bale considered the statement while letting the fatigue drive him into slumber, vowing silently that he wouldn't abandon the memory of his home for any reason.

The days waned on, more of the same back breaking labor, more of the same terrible cruelty of the mine. Two more men had killed one another in a night time fight in their cell, and a guard had fed upon a man who looked like he had been there forever. The Wraith commander had made rounds regularly of the workers, and rumour had it that he was frustrated with the recent spate of violence. Bale was returning to his digging crew when he heard the now familiar cries of fight breaking out. He ran his wheel barrow through a quickly mounting crowd, seeing that Martel and another hauler were into it, a wheelbarrow spilled on the ground next to the combatants. The pair locked up and after a brief struggle, Martel yelped falling backwards. The other man jumped atop him with some sort of sharpened piece of stone in high above his head, about to deal the killing blow. A stun bolt jumped out from behind some other workers, catching the assailant in the back. His form crumpled, falling atop Martel in a heap. The Wraith commander and a trio of guards divided the circle of workers with their presence. One guard grabbed the body of the attacker, and flipped him over, revealing Martel laying on the floor covered in blood. Bale could see his chest heaving, and the dark red flowing between his fingers in the dim light.

"Such a waste." said the Wraith, grinning frightfully as his teeth were like some kind of rotten bones on the face of an apparition. Bale stood frozen as Martel caught his eyes, the older man frightened, and realizing that his time was up. Swiftly the commander knelt down and slapped his palm against Martel's chest. Martel twitched and screamed loudly, his body quickly shriveling into a desiccated corpse. The crowd began to rapidly disperse as Bale noticed the attacked being fed upon by the guard. Trying not to panic, he fled around the nearest corner, finding a dark alcove in which to gather himself while he waited for the Wraith to finish. He could feel the tears wanting to flow but refused to give in. His last friend in the world was dead, but he wasn't. There was always a chance. After a short time, he snuck his way back to the scene, finding the bodies still prone on the ground, their faces grimacing as if laughing now that they were free. Trying not to stare, Bale picked up the shovel his friend once used, and began filling the wheel barrow. Another slave took up his former task as did others while Bale worked in stunned silence, only thinking of the day when he might gain freedom.

 _There's always a chance._

He would come to find his chance five years later. The mine had been a cruel place, and through the weeks and months, Bale had become stronger. He had grown into a man who understood the value of silence, and of violence. On more than one occasion he had fought and killed an attacker, protected an acquaintance, and survived without the demise he had begun to envision for himself: fed on at the hands of his captors.

He dug, lifted, and poured immeasurable amounts of dirt and rock, all for the necessities of the Wraith. He had determined at some interval that the needs of his captors were due to an ever growing fleet of ships. The raw material was used to create frameworks for their vessels to grow over, which Bale had also come to find out from small whispered conversations amongst the populace of his hellish home.

He dug in to the loose dirt, hitting a slab of solid stone beneath. Silently he handed the shovel to today's companion in exchange for the pickaxe the other was holding. He swung with great force, piercing through the earthy layers, and working the tool around, found the edge on which to pry the offending boulder from the earth. The commander of the Wraith was passing by the area, inspecting the work as was always his desire, his ghost like face appearing in the dim light as some sort of twisted apparition. Bale continued to pry, when he noticed at the corner of his eye, that the Wraith had stopped. The commander shouted something, and began to usher the guards off in the direction of the stargate. The ground shook slightly, dust dropping from the ceiling as a distant explosion sent vibrations through the rocky floor of the mine. Another explosion, and then a burping, chattering sound that was unrecognizable. The Wraith commander turned back the way he came, drawing out a small handheld stunner. Another explosion shook the ground, and shouting began to resonate throughout the dark caverns as fights broke out. Men began to fight other men, while a few brave souls took it upon themselves to act out years of imagined revenge on the purveyors of their individual torment. The Wraith commander had a momentary look of panic, subtle, yet not indistinguishable on his cruel features. Bales companion decided he had had enough, and when the commanders back was turned he rushed it him, swinging the shovel hard, catching the evil being in the back. The force had pushed the Wraith slightly, but did not deter him from turning and striking back. The Wraith punched the man hard, throwing him against the rock face where they were digging. He brought the stunner up at Bale, seemingly in a slow, graceful arc as time crawled at the sight of the weapon being raised at him.

Bales mind flashed into memories of the years he had lost in this place. The dead bodies of other humans, the cruelty of life underground all culminated into a singularity of intense hatred and rage. The years of toil had created the perfect body to enact vengeance on his jailers. Before he understood his desires, he was moving with the speed of a predator chasing down wounded prey.

He ducked under the first blast, and sidestepped the second. The third grazed his shoulder, sending a wave of cold through him, yet he had sufficient momentum and adrenaline to carry him through. The pick axe in his hand lifted high, barely touching the ceilings in the chamber. As it descended he felt troubled by the lack of sound in his ears, and the serenity he felt as he came to terms with his demise. The Wraith raised his hand instinctively in an attempt to block the hard iron from crashing down on him. Bale felt it all, as the blunted edge of the pick pierced through the forearm of the Wraith, plowing through cold flesh and bone, as it carried on into the hateful beings chest, pinning his arm to his torso. Bale wasn't finished though, and through tiring eyes could see the pick being ripped out of the falling body aided by his own dirty bare foot. The surreal nature of his act wasn't lost on him, as he wondered oddly when he lost his shoes, all the while plunging the pickaxe into the neck of the Wraith, and then the torso once more, and then... and then...

He could hear the sound of screaming, grating and granular as from a voice which hadn't spoken to the living in a long time. As the volume in his ears returned, he realized he was the one who was shouting incoherently, raving insensibly at the pulped mound of the Wraith corpse lying at his now blood stained feet. He stood there shaking for a moment, hearing the sounds of battle raging throughout the mine as hungry hands tore each other apart. He wiped the gore and tears from his face, and turned to see his companion struggling to get back on his feet. Bale picked up the stunner from the Wraith body and went to his companion.

"You okay?" he asked. The man shook his head, indicating something wrong with his chest. Bale gingerly slipped a strong, yet shaky arm under his, and lifted hearing the sound as the man sucked dusty air in through his teeth in pain. "We're going to try and leave this place, even if it kills us." The man nodded, his eyes clenched shut. Bale shuffled along, aiding his partner as his own legs didn't work so well. The stumbled through the dark of the mine, seeing the results of the riot that had consumed the place. As they passed through some of the larger chambers and passageways, they saw bodies of both Wraith and men alike littered about. People were fighting everywhere as the madness spread. He began to pick up stragglers as they made their way towards the gate. Bale used the stunner liberally, not wanting to be hampered by anyone who decided to impede their escape. They finally made it to the cells where they normally slept, and took one of the side passages which only the Wraith ever used. A guard had appeared in an open doorway firing his weapon into the crowd. The bolts slipped by Bale, striking the people behind him. He fired his own weapon catching the Wraith in the chest, seeing the bolt wash over him. Another Wraith appeared after the first dropped, and Bale shot him down as well. The other miners behind him surged and they burst through the doorway into another world. Everywhere the walls were covered in the same leather like material, and the air was cold and damp more so than in the mine. Shouting came from all sides as miners engaged in combat with Wraith in the room. Another explosion nearby nearly toppled Bale, who realized suddenly that his companion had passed out, and that he was dragging his slumbering form. He laid him in a corner, vowing silently to return for him, and set off in search of the stargate.

The place was a maze. He had never heard of anyone ever being in this part of the mine, yet felt unconcerned if he got lost. He entered another room finding more Wraith bodies strew about. The bodies were perforated with holes, and Bale remembered the weapons he had seen in his travels years ago. He kept moving, not stopping to wonder if any of the Wraith were going to rise up again. He plowed into a empty corridor and made for the door at the opposite end quickly, the adrenaline in his blood the only thing keeping him from collapsing and becoming one of the numerous bodies strewn about the mine. As soon as he got to the door it opened. The barrel of a weapon was shoved in his face simultaneously as he tucked the stunner under the other weapon and into the jaw of its owner. Bale went wide eyed as his heart thudded inside his chest, and looking through the dimness he saw a familiar face, also frozen in apprehension.

"John Sheppard?"


	31. Chapter 31

It took a few hours to clear out the Wraith force, and secure the areas surrounding the gate. Sheppard had sent out small groups of men to herd the remaining miners into safer areas, and sent back word that stores of food and water should be sent from Atlantis along with a medical team to evaluate the population. Bale stayed close to the stargate, being of interest to Sheppard. Once everything was organized and the situation calmed down enough, Bale was brought to Sheppard.

"So how do you know me?" asked Sheppard, adjusting his vest and weapon into a more comfortable spot.

"You came to my village a very long time ago on Ariannia." rasped Bale. "I've been searching for my way home ever since, until I got captured and forced to work here."

"Ariannia huh?" Sheppard looked at the tall hulking form he recognized as Ronon Dex. The man seemed to wear a perpetual frown when he wasn't speaking. "I haven't been there in a very long time either. But I do recall the very last time I had been there that someone was looking for a child named Bale. Is that you?"

Bale couldn't hold it any longer. The years of hardship, of forced labor and cruelty, came crashing down like a massive wave on the shore of his soul, washing up every memory that he had been forced to endure. The idea that his parents were worried about him seemed intolerable, and the years of guilt since his disappearance seemed only to add to monumentous injustice of the universe. The tears began running freely for the first time in forever. Through the glinting wetness that washed his eyes, he could see how uncomfortable Sheppard looked.

"I just want to go home. I just want to go home. I just want to go home." he kept repeating through sobs. Sheppard grabbed his shoulder.

"Hey. Uh... Look your parents weren't the only ones out here looking for you it seems." Bale shook his head, trying to drive the sadness from his being. Sheppard took it as an ending. "But … Ah... We'll talk about it later alright. Just... Hangout by the gate, and I'll be back soon enough."

Bale sat next to the gate for what seemed several hours, as his mind purged itself of all the horrible things he had experienced. Not having cried for years, his eyes hurt incredibly, and the resulting headache seemed to add insult to his injury. A woman named Dr. Keller came by with one of helpers in tow. Wiping a spot on his shoulder clean with a small square of damp, cool cloth, she marked a number on his arm with a black pen. She gave him a cursory physical exam, and took some blood to test, trying to ensure that he carried no diseases.

"You're lucky we found this place. How long have you been here?" she asked.

"Too long." whispered Bale, staring at nothing in particular. "How long until I can return home?"

"Well that's not up to me. That's Colonel Sheppard's department. I'm just here to make sure you're healthy enough to travel and that you won't carry any strange diseases back to your home."

"So we're stuck here for the time being?" asked Bale, the idea of being stuck in the mine for any great amount of time felt sickening.

"I don't know. Maybe a day or two more. It all depends on how we're going to handle processing everyone through the gate. Some of the miners don't even know where they're from." She gave an awkward smile, indicating how sad it was that home might be unreachable for many of the workers. She finished up and went on to someone else, leaving Bale alone with his thoughts once more.

He sat there watching the hustle and bustle of activity as people came and went through the gate, presumably from Atlantis as none of the miners had been allowed to leave yet, and all were dressed in the same uniformed garb. A soldier had come by at one point and asked him if he knew the name of his homeworld, to which Bale replied that he did. He was handed a small piece of paper and told to keep it safe, and left to conduct the rest of his duty. There was some excitement at one point when a pair of miners had run into the room when the gate powered up, throwing themselves into the liquid energy of the portal as it erupted. Bale understood their suicide, as the notion that there was something beyond the mine might be unbelievable to many of the long standing residents, a veritable impossibility in their minds that they couldn't reconcile, and death was their only way out. It was madness.

He ate and waited. He slept and waited. He cried and he waited until a large group of miners were escorted into the room, kept at a safe distance from the gate. A soldier came over to Bale checking a clipboard in his hand.

"Colonel Sheppard would like to see you sir." Bale got up and followed the man as more men were hustled into the room, dozens in all. Moving through the crowd as it separated, Bale caught the eye of many of the miners, recognizing some. A couple thanked him as he passed, and he wondered what had transpired to allow him such regard.

"So you'll be coming with me Bale." said Sheppard as he donned his vest. "We'll go straight after the first group is processed through to Atlantis in about an hour or so. Just need to let our guys on the other side deal with the rest first."

"Atlantis?" asked Bale, struck by the sudden apprehension of the journey.

"Yeah. It'll be a very temporary home. Just to allow Dr. Keller to chance to further test you and the others for any diseases you might have picked up. She can only do that with the equipment in Atlantis."

"Oh." was all he had to say, casting his gaze to the ground in disappointment. Sheppard frowned a little.

"Yeah well it's just a precaution before you go home."

"Wait." said Bale suddenly, his own visage turning to a frown. "How did you learn my name?"

"Ah. Yeah we'll talk about that once we get to Atlantis." said Sheppard.

The gate roared to life, a familiar sound and feeling that Bale recalled from his journey so long ago. Sheppard and Ronon walked towards the shimmering liquidity of the portal which represented to Bale the incredible vastness, wonder, and horror that the universe had to offer. He balked for a moment, anxious to go through yet remembering how his life had turned out as a result. Ronon walked through, disappearing into the light, as Sheppard turned and looked at him.

"Come on. There's someone waiting for you." Now intrigued, Bale's apprehension eased as thoughts of his parents being on the other side spurred him on. The cold of the transit seemed to soak into his very being once more, distantly familiar in his memory. They emerged from the other side into a room, so bright and clean it almost hurt his eyes. He squinted trying to tone down the brightness of the place, and scanned the room.

The dark floors contrasted slightly with the white and off white toned wall, with a few tapestry like wall adornments breaking up the brightness slightly. Light fixtures were prominent throughout the room, which had a lit staircase rising up to an observation platform above where several people went about their duties. Bale almost couldn't believe what he was seeing, which was a stark contrast to the dim and lifeless underworld that the mine had always been.

"This way." said Sheppard. He was escorted through the halls, passing by people who were not adorned with sweat and dirt, into the infirmary. Sheppard promptly handed him off to a physician who directed Bale on to a table, next to a machine that reminded him of the one he'd seen years ago in Uriah. "Now you stay here and get checked out while I go stow my gear. I'll be back in fifteen minutes or so." He left allowing the doctor to conduct the necessary tests to verify his health. He was directed into the proper position, and the doctor operated the scanner which told them what he already knew, or at least believed to be true. He was not sick with anything dire, and was healthy enough to return home, which became as music to his ears. Sheppard returned, thanking the doctor and leading Bale to his next stop in the grand city.

"You'll be given temporary quarters until we can arrange for travel to your homeworld. So it might be a couple of days but at least you'll get there sooner rather than later." They entered what Sheppard had called the mess hall, and Bale went wide eyed at the color and quantity of the food. Vegetables, fruits, juices, and meat had lined a table laid out to serve the inhabitants of the workforce there. "Here grab a tray. The rest of the miners are in another area of the city being tended to. We thought it best to keep them together." Bale picked up some red fruit, and some bread, then greens, slices of meat, and other things heaping his plate high. He restrained himself recognizing that Sheppard was watching him curiously.

"Thank you Colonel Sheppard. This means a lot to share your fare with me."

"No problem. Look why don't we go and sit somewhere a little less crowded." He was led back through the corridors to a set of apartments. He waved his hands over what Bale now understood as the door controls, making their sweet jingling sound in response. The door slid open and they entered, to which Sheppard placed his tray down on a table, gesturing for Bale to do the same as the door closed behind them. They sat and ate, Bale trying not to devour the meal too quickly, as his stomach was unaccustomed to such solid food anymore. He barely ate much before he stopped, silently swearing to eat the rest later, and rubbed his full belly as if he had eaten a meal at festival.

"Full?" asked Sheppard munching gingerly on an apple.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Good." He spoke into the tiny earpiece microphone on the side of his head, and nodded as he received a response. Not saying much, Bale listened to the near silent sound of the room, unable to fathom how little echo there seemed to be. A ringing sound came from the door, prompting Sheppard to get up. When it opened, Bale could see Tremaine standing there looking oddly apprehensive. His stance was somehow altered from the last time he had seen him, and his hair had started to gray giving him a more seasoned look. Bale stood unsure of what to say to the man he had been separated from during his years of hardship. Tremaine limped in slowly, his leg not working right as his gait was stiff and hindered.

Placing himself in front of Bale his mouth worked, and Bale could see wetness at the corner of the mans eyes. He also noticed they were almost the same height now, which felt more than a little strange.

"Hello Tremaine." said Bale, unsure himself how to address the man. Tremaine tried to speak, but kept looking at him as if a ghost from a distant past. Instead he fell to his knees and grabbed Bale about the waist, sobbing and squeezing ever tighter.

"Ah... Why don't I let you two catch up? I've got to see to the refugees anyhow. I'll be back later to check up and help you get settled." Sheppard left quietly, allowing Bale to try and understand what was happening. After a few moments he gently got Tremaine back on his feet, using a napkin from one of the trays to let the man dry his face.

"Thank you." said Tremaine slumping down in one of the chairs. Bale did the same, observing his former companion with unsure eyes.

"You're welcome." replied Bale, shifting some of the food on his plate nervously.

"I was worried I'd never find you again after we got separated."

"What happened? I remember getting hit, and when I woke up you were gone, and I spent the next few years slaving." The bitter note in his voice was readily apparent, his younger self wondering why he could be so mean. The tone wasn't lost on the other man as he tried to explain the years since.

"When we got there" started Tremaine "I tried to shove you out of the way of the shooting. When you went down I knew it was my fault. I ended up killing all the Wraith near the stargate, and after I had gotten the address put in for a new destination, more Wraith came. A lot more. I killed a few more but ultimately I was cut off, and had to flee." He closed his eyes, the pain of abandoning Bale plain on his face. He wiped more tears and continued. "I wandered for a little longer. Running from place to place, trying to dismiss the whole thing as just luck. It didn't take long for me to find my honor once more, my own guilt driving me to it. I should have never left you Bale." He looked at his feet, and adjusted his left leg using his arms, which made Bale wonder rather than concentrate on the cold feeling inside him at hearing the circumstances of his capture. Tremaine continued further, leaning against the table. "I set off looking for this place, figuring if anyone could help me it was the Atlanteans, since the only other group I thought could help me were the Genii, and they do things for their own reasons. It took me a very, very long time to find them. Word had it that the city had disappeared, vanished. I never did find out about how that rumor got started but there were plenty of people who had dealt with Colonel Sheppard and his subordinates that were just unable to contact them. Around that time I was being chased by the Wraith a lot, moving from planet to planet. I had stolen things to survive, killed people and Wraith alike in order to survive. Then one day I had entered a village and by sheer luck met Major Lorne and his team. I told them I knew some of the details of the whereabouts of a Wraith operation, which peeked their interest. After being brought here, they took my information and we went back to yesteryear. I went after Ghoma Wilt while Dr. McKay worked on finding out where the address was to the mine."

"Did you find him?" asked Bale, interested in the fate of the strange individual.

"I did. I killed him for his betrayal and treachery. It was a fate that suited his kind. But he gave me a token in return. He had rigged a trap in a part of the village that I walked into. The spring trap had impaled my leg, and was set with some sort of poison. When he came to investigate my situation, I shot him through his murderous heart. I made sure to take his mask as well, and with the help of the people here, got back in time for Doctor Keller to save me." He lifted his leg up to set it on the corner of the table and, pulled back the cuff exposing a metal prosthetic that was now his leg. Seeing the augmentation jogged Bale's memory.

"Wait. What about your tracker? The thing that the Wraith had implanted into you? Doesn't Sheppard and his group consider that a problem?"

"They removed it." said Tremaine putting his leg on the floor. "In all my time of having it, and having given up, they were the only ones who had the confidence to get it out of my body. It helped that it was already done on another runner some time ago, albeit his tracking unit was much easier to remove."

"Another runner?"

"Yes. Ronon Dex. Seems the Satedan had been sentenced by the Wraith sometime after the fall of his homeworld." Tremaine shifted nervously. "He and I... Well. He has a long memory. He was part of the the Satedan defense force when my people performed their betrayal. We talk very little." His eyes were downcast, and he seemed much more frail at the mention of the Heracanian and Satedan history.

"Satedan." The word mulled over in his mind, catching at a distant memory. After a moment the vision of past came racing forward. "The book!" he nearly shouted. "Do you still have it?"

"I do. I still have all your things, although I did eat the last of the food in my travels out of necessity. But everything you had is still there."

They spoke of the mine a little, Tremaine not wanting to prod about the years of toil in the darkened, and fearful place. Eventually Sheppard showed up and discussed what was to happen over the next few days. The plan to re-unite the miners with their lost families was ambitious, but was possible to accomplish. Colonel Sheppard showed Bale to some temporary quarters where he had space to think and warm to the thoughts of returning home in three days time. During his first night, Bale slept on the floor, unaccustomed to the soft mattress that was provided. He had also showered more than once, trying to remove the feeling of the dirty years from his body, mind, and soul. By the fourth try in the middle of the night he gave up, letting the tears take his mind back into the dark, only to eventually well up once again at the rising of the foreign sun on the horizon.

 _Home. I'm going home soon._

He began laughing at the absurdity of his life, finally feeling a measure of true joy which had eluded him these last years.

 _AN : Only one more chapter to go. Comments and reviews of my story are always welcome._


	32. Chapter 32

Bale spent the next couple of days in quiet contemplation, speaking with Tremaine about his travels occasionally, and watching the some of the other miners make their own way home through the gate. It wasn't until his time that he was unsure as to what was to become of him when he made it home. He had laid out the things from his pack, which Tremaine had returned to him in short order, checking everything over. His water skin had become rotted from the years of abuse, which he lamented slightly thinking of the long spates of thirst in the mine. The fishing rod was still in good repair, and the letter from Heyanne was still in one of the pouches and none the worse for wear. He finished packing everything, and was getting the straps situated when Tremaine had come calling. Bale was surprised to find that he was back in his leatherwork gear, toting his shotgun.

"All set?" asked Tremaine.

"Almost. Are you leaving Atlantis as well?"

"I'm going with you." he said adjusting the weapon on his shoulder. "I can't stay here. I've already overstayed my welcome, and I've accomplished what I needed to. So to stay would just put me in the way of everything." He gave a familiar grin continuing with "Ronon will be happy to be rid of me." Bale nodded, accepting Tremaine's wishes. The two departed for the gate room, meeting up with Major Lorne and his team as they prepared to escort them back. As the stargate was being dialed, Lorne had sidled up to Bale.

"Nervous to go home?" he asked.

"No. Just ready." replied Bale.

The forest was still there after all this time, barely changed save for the fact that the cold months were in full swing. Bale had been given a jacket by one of Sheppards people, and took a moment to shrug it on, remembering how his journey had begun so long ago. The rise where he had first observed Sheppard and his team leaving, and the thrill of starting his own quest that fateful day were bright in his mind, but still slightly less lustrous than they would have been had his travels not ended the way they did. As Lorne began to organize his men, Bale didn't bother to wait, setting off through the thin crust of snow that blanketed the ground. Behind him he could hear the trudging of the others as he led the way, almost familiar since the forest was still a shunned place. After a while they exited the foliage into the fields surrounding the village, the berms of the plow still visible through the filling of the snow blanket. Breaking a fresh track, the were struck by a chill wind which stirred the flakes into life, skirling about their legs as they walked.

The village was still full of life, which gave Bale more hope for his reunification with his family. As they entered, children ran after one another, the locals recognizing the men from Atlantis. One child ran shouting for Mephis to come greet them. Other villagers regarded them, giving a greeting to the group from a distance. Mephis eventually came out, hobbling along with a cane in one hand, his gait much slower than Bale had remembered.

"Major Lorne." said the old man, his hair now fully grayed from the last time Bale had seen him. "To what do we owe the honor of your visit?"

"Well sir we're just escorting one of your people home from abroad is all." Mephis squinted, taken aback slightly.

"We have no one traveling sir. Perhaps you're mistaken."

"There's no mistake Mephis." said Bale. "I've been away too long." Mephis turned his gaze to Bale, regarding him for a moment before his eyes went wide with shock.

"B-Bale? Is that you boy?" said the old man reaching out with a trembling hand as if unable to believe he was not some sort of phantom.

"It's me sir. I'm home." The last words struck a chord within, and he shifted nervously. "Ah. Where's my parents Mephis? I would very much like to speak to them."

"Of course boy. Of course." said the old man excitedly, his voice hushed. "They're in your home as they've always been. They've diminished since you disappeared but remained in good spirits, hoping you would return. Come, and go to them boy!" he gestured to the familiar house across the snow covered green. He left the slowly growing crowd heading towards his childhood home. Tremaine had stayed with the rest, much to his relief as he wanted to be alone with his parents for a time. At the threshold he stopped, looking at the familiar doorway, took a breath as he forced the memories of his past life away, leaving his mind clear. He entered feeling the warmth of the cook fire being tended to, its flickering light casting shadows on the wall. Light from the window streamed in, diffused by the frost on the panes. His eyes had no time to adjust to the darkened room, and all he could hear was the shuffling of someone in the dark, almost plunging his memory back into the mine which was stymied by the smell of the place.

"Who are you sir?" said a familiar voice apprehensively, the low light shrouding them. Bale blinked a few times, attempting to adjust his vision as to see better. "Speak sir. Who are you and what do you want?" The sound of a man coughing came from deeper in the room, muffled and filtered as if through a blanket. As his eyes acclimated he could see the form of his Mother on the far side of the table, her needlework in hand. The shadows made the sunken lines on her face deeper, lines that were not in his memory.

"Mother?" said Bale. "I'm home." His Mother took a step back, almost knocking the stool she was using over. Slowly she approached taking up a small candle and lighting it from the cook fire. Bale could tell that her clothes were loose on her body, more so than when he left. As she got closer he could see the new gray in her hair, wisps of it poking out here and there. At arms length, she looked him over in the candle light, but was not satisfied. She took him by the arm, pulling him towards the light of day coming through the window. Examining him once more, she reached out touching his cheek, her arm extending upwards tracing his jawline. He waited patiently for her to finish, satisfied by just being in the room with her once more. After a minute she withdrew her hand, still staring. Tears began streaming down her cheeks and she placed the candle down so as to have her hands free.

"Bale?" she asked. "My boy?" His recognized her askance, as he had grown over the time he had been gone. No longer was she able to see the young lad with fattened cheeks, and close cut hair, but rather a lithe young man who had the stance and look of someone who had seen more than his fair share of hardship.

"Mother. It's me. I made it back." She let out a cry of joy and wrapped her arms around him tight, sobbing loudly. He could hear the rustle of the bed clothes being tossed back as his Father got up from bed, coughing and hacking.

"What's this all about dear?" his Father asked entering the room. "Who's here?... Boy?"

"Yes Father. I'm home." The sound of rejoicing could be heard easily from the road way, and carried throughout the village as the trio wept tears of happiness.

Bale had explained the initial part of his absence that evening, leaving the rest for another time. He had also introduced Tremaine to his parents, who had offered to take him in until he could find his own lodgings. Tremaine accepted, but stipulated that it would only be for the evening. Bale had to sleep on the floor that night as did his companion, since his own bed was too small for his much longer form. The next day he was asked to speak in the long house to the village elders to which he was not surprised to find that Treely had died during his absence. He agreed reluctantly and with the condition that the village children were there, so that they could benefit from hearing how difficult life was beyond the boundaries of their home. Tremaine had been introduced during the telling, Bale's story interrupted only occasionally for some clarification about certain points. They ate the midday meal in the long house, which had gained an almost festival atmosphere as families from around village brought in cooked foods, meats, and small amounts of fruit that they could spare. Bale dealt with the overwhelming amount of attention well enough, but inside longed for some quiet. He had taken the opportunity to introduce Tremaine to Irrol, who offered him work fishing with him through the ice to supplement the winter stores. Tremaine agreed readily, and they sealed the agreement with the clasping of arms. They finished out the day in merriment, and with all sorts of questions being asked by various people he knew. His childhood friends had grown up as readily as he, although in much better form due to good food and humor.

The winter played out with Bale settling into the routine of living once more. Chopping firewood, tending to livestock, helping with general village duties and so forth. It was a life he had missed dearly, but as the days wore on he began to feel as though he was missing something else. He dismissed the thought time and again, pegging it out to be nothing more than a fancy, until the day after he noticed the trees beginning to bud once more.

Spring had started as the thaw from the cold months began in earnest, turning some of the fields muddy, but ready to start sowing in the coming weeks. He was out in one of the fields watching a herd of cows picking at some shoots poking through the last snow drifts. The air was clean and brisk, and he remembered exactly what he needed. Finishing out the day he returned home to his Mother repairing a skirt that needed some patchwork near the bottom after being stepped on. His Father was wrapped up in one of his blankets near the fire, the sickness in his chest seemed to stay with him perpetually during the cold months. He kissed his Mother, then went to his new made bed and pulled out the pack and book, thumbing through the pages in the light of the fire looking for one page in particular. His Mother watched curiously as he flipped the pages.

"What are you planning my son?" she asked.

"I think I'm going to need to travel once more." he said matter of factly, flipping another page. He looked up to see her crying. "Oh Mother. It's alright." he said moving to her side, grabbing her about the shoulders.

"I can't handle you leaving again. You were gone so long." she sobbed.

"Where do you need to go boy?" asked his Father gruffly.

"I made a promise a long time ago Father. I need to keep it." His Fathers frown seemed more menacing in the twitching light of the fire, counter to his response.

"How long will you be gone this time?" his Father asked.

"Not long Father. I just need to contact the people of Atlantis to help me. After that it will likely be only a few days gone and back."

"Like one of our trips fishing when... you were younger." said his Father softly.

"Yes Father. No longer."

"Fair enough son." he said turning back to the warmth of the flames. Bale consoled his Mother for a time, promising that it wouldn't be like last time.

The next day he grabbed some small food stores, readied his pack with the book inside, and left for the gate. He had made sure to ask Major Lorne about being able to contact the city if need be, to which he was given a small box to transmit a code allowing him safe passage, and the address of the city. He dialed the gate, and after it established its connection, sent the requested IDC. Once cleared he proceeded through, appearing once again in the cleanliness of the gate room. Colonel Sheppard was called to meet him there, and he appeared quickly, curious at the unexpected visit.

"I need your help finding a particular gate address. I have it in the book, but I need to know how to get to it from the gate on my homeworld." said Bale, pulling the volume out of his pack.

"No problem. Let's go see if Zelenka is free." Bale had no idea who this Zelenka was, but followed along nonetheless. They entered into one of the many laboratories in the city, and Sheppard introduced Bale to a thin, scruffy looking man with an odd accent. Once pleasantries were concluded they got down to business.

"Can I see the address you're looking to find?" asked Zelenka. Bale was almost unsure what he was asking due to the accent, but handed the book over to the man.

"The page is marked." said Bale, indicating a strip of leather he had placed inside. Zelenka opened the page, examining the address. Holding up a finger he put the co-ordinates into one of the terminals, bringing up a map. The address as written was dialed from a planet listed in the database as Tulius, and ended at Stellara.

"Is this Stellara where you wish to go?" asked Zelenka.

"Yes." replied Bale after a moment. "But I'd like to travel from Ariannia to Stellara, and the other way around."

"Ah! That's easy enough." Zelenka's fingers glided over the keyboard, which produced a set of symbols from. He was able to print the symbols on to a piece of paper, which he placed in the book and handed back to Bale. "The first address is to Stellara, and the second one is back to Ariannia." Bale thanked Zelenka, who appeared grateful to return to his work unabated. Sheppard escorted Bale back to the gate room, curious to know what was on Stellara.

"I'm just fulfilling a promise I made to someone Colonel." said Bale.

"They must be important for you to go to all the trouble."

"They are. I owe them a debt that should be repaid."

"I understand." said Sheppard. "Look why don't you wait a minute, and I'll get Chuck to dial the gate direct to Stellara? Save you some time."

"Thank you Colonel. That's most gracious of you." Sheppard left to talk to Chuck, who operated the console controlling the gate. The portal sprang to life, and Sheppard bid Bale farewell before he slipped into the liquid light.

The gate on Stellara was almost as he had left it, and he felt lucky not to have been flung through it as last time he came here. The erosion of the shoreline had placed the control pedestal on an overhang, and he postulated whether or not he could get Sheppard to help with that, guessing that the inhabitants of Uriah had no idea about how the stargate worked. He went along the shoreline, seeing the docks and two large ships moored there. It was early evening and there were very few people about. Recalling the way to Albertous's home, he weaved his way through netting, and traps strung about near the docks. He came to the old house finding it dark, and cold looking. Knocking on the door, he waited patiently. After no one came, he knocked harder but without result once more. A man on board one of the ships called to him, and Bale went over.

"You'll have no luck there young feller." said the sailor as he attended to a stray rope, lashing it firmly to a cleat.

"I was hoping to find Albertous there. Tell me has he moved somewhere else?"

"'Fraid not lad. Th' old man been sent to th' bottom two years past. His grave be up on th' hill further along th' shore, so he can see th' oceans as is proper."

"Dead?" sputtered Bale feeling the bottom fall out of his task.

"Aye. He's been missed, tha's for sure." Bale thanked the man, and headed towards the town, looking to check in on another long lost friend. He went to the hospital, looking for Ephalia, feeling that she would know what had happened to Albertous, and where specifically to find the mans grave. Once there, one of the staff directed him curiously to her own house, telling him that he should speak with her sister Kinder. Following the directions, as his memory had failed here, he ended up at the small house not far from the hospital. Seeing that the sun was dropping below the horizon, he knocked hoping to find her well and knowing that she wouldn't be able to recognize him. A woman, not much younger than he had answered the door.

"Can I help you?" she said frowning slightly, no doubt at the late hour. Bale was stuck slightly at how pretty the young lady was. Her auburn hair was draped across slender shoulders, covered only by a linen night gown as she was getting ready to settle in for the night.

"Um... . Please is Ephalia here? I'm an old friend." stuttered Bale nervously as his heart threatened to jump and flee his chest altogether from the pounding it was doing. The girls lip trembled at the mention of Ephalia's name.

"My sister is gone sir. She died last year." Any curiously fickle thoughts of the beautiful woman before him fled, leaving only a gaping hole in his heart. Both people who had saved him on the outset of his journey were gone. He felt more than terrible.

"Dead." The word was ashen on his lips. Just another proof of how cruel the universe had been. "Oh. I was hoping to speak to her. I'm so sorry. Are you her sister, Kinder?"

"That's right."

"We had met the last time I was here. My name is Bale." Her expression changed to one of recognition as she recalled meeting a young boy years ago.

"You've changed much." she remarked.

"Yes well, I've been a long time away from... everything. Look I'm sorry to bother you, and I can see you're on your way to sleep. If you could just point me in the direction of a hostel or some place I could sleep for the night, that would be much appreciated."

"Are you planning on staying long?"

"I wasn't." he said, wondering if he should change his mind about that as he looked at her. "I was only to be here long enough to speak with Albertous. I promised him I would." She nodded, looking him over. She suddenly shrugged as if settling some internal argument, and stepped back from the door, granting him entry. "I shouldn't be so rude. Please come in. The sea air makes the night cold around here." He said little as he entered, thanking her for her kindness. Inside the room was warm as the fire burned away the cool of the outdoors from his body. She shut the door, barring it so as to prevent unwanted guests much like himself.

"Um. I didn't want to be any trouble." he said.

"Don't worry. You aren't. Would you like some tea to take the chill off?" He agreed, doffing his pack near the door, and taking a seat at the table in the middle of the room. "Now if I recall, you were one of Ephi's charges at the hospital am I right?"

"Yes. She had helped me get well after being sick from nearly drowning. The last I saw of her she wasn't well herself. I...Ah...Fear that I was responsible for making her sick." Kinder placed a dark cup down in front of him, her thin white fingers starkly contrasting the color. She sat down across from him with her own cup, shaking her head.

"It wasn't your fault. My sister had been sick a long while before you had come along. She had her moments, but it was after Albertous had died that she lost any real tether to this life." Bale was surprised of how matter-of-fact Kinder was being about her sisters demise.

"How did she die?" he asked as gently as he could.

"Truthfully she died of a broken heart. Doctor Pesk had checked on her regularly once she had begun to succumb to her illness. He had maintained that her body was fine, but any one could see that living without Jep to hold, and then Albertous to guide her on occasion had done her in." She took a sip of the steaming tea, looking into her cup once she placed it down. "One morning I got up and found that she had passed."

"I'm sorry to hear." was all Bale could think to say.

"Yes. Well it happens I suppose. Since I've started working at the hospital as well, I've seen my fair share of the dying. Even in a little town like Uriah."

They finished out their first cup, and then brewed a second. Kinder lit a lamp to ease the darkened corners of their shadowy burden, and she told him of life in the town, memories of Albertous and Ephalia, and in turn he spoke little of his journey since last being here, revealing minor details and trying to keep it brief. The sun was far below the horizon before Kinder decided that sleep was in order.

"So since you're here, I suppose I could put you up for the night, if you don't mind sleeping on the floor."

"I can't say as I'd refuse. You're most kind." He could see her demeanor change slightly, almost as if she was hiding embarrassment. He too was trying not to stare, as the linen night dress was still shapely enough to reveal her slender form. She gave him some blankets to fend off the night air and make the wood more easily reclined on. Snuffing the lantern she bid him good night, retreating to her own bedroom and closing the door. Bale lay there watching the fire die down, unable to sleep as thoughts of Kinder swam through his mind. There was something about her he couldn't place his finger on, and it kept him awake long after the fire had burned itself out.

He awoke early, only having slept for a little while. The sun was just about to break over the horizon, and rather than have Kinder wake to a cold home, he refreshed the logs in the hearth and re-lit the fireplace allowing the warmth to climb to comfortable levels. Kinder entered the room fully dressed for the day, having washed using a basin in her room which she offered to Bale.

"The water is cold but it'll refresh you at least." Bale did so finding the water almost icy as it chilled him into shivers. She had begun to prepare a simple meal of bread and cheese, and placed some eggs in a small pot above the fire allowing them to boil. They ate breakfast and spoke jovially of everyday things, comparing morning habits as a matter of conversation.

"Now this is my rest day, so once I'm done at market, and have the house in order I can certainly take you out to Albertous's and Ephi's graves if you like." said Kinder dusting her hands on the apron she wore.

"I would appreciate it. Since you've put me up, can I assist you with your chores?"

"That would be wonderful. Yes, please." They spent the morning attending to her needs, and the needs of the home. Bale had cleaned the hearth out once it was cool enough, and split more wood than she needed, his years of labor making him incredibly efficient. They had gone to get food from the market, chatting and warming to each other, Kinder's lonely life becoming as apparent as Bales own hardships as the pair conversed. By mid afternoon Kinder had declared that everything was done, and packed a light picnic, along with an insulated flask of hot tea.

She led him out along the shore once more, past the stargate this time to an area with a run down shack bereft of inhabitants. A partially built stone wall marked the rear edge of the graveyard, which looked out over the ocean. Closest to the shore were the two graves side by side, of Albertous and Ephalia. Seeing the stone markers standing as sentinels, Bale felt apprehension at disturbing the place, and balked at seeing them.

"What's wrong?" asked Kinder, wiping strands of windswept hair from her face.

"It's just... I really was hoping to find them alive and in good health." he said. The tears wicked against the edge of his eyes as he remembered the kindness of both of them. "I just hoped they would be here."

"Hey." she said stepping up to him and gently taking his hand. Her fingers intertwined with his, her cool skin a welcome relief from his own warmth. "They are here." she said smiling at him and looking into his eyes. "They'll always be here to listen." His mouth worked slightly, the inner conflict of his need for her touch, fighting against the want to finish out his promise. She led him closer, slipping in between the pair of graves which were set far enough apart to lay crosswise between. They stood looking at the headstones for a moment, allowing Bale to take in the smell of the ocean winds, and hear the sea birds keening in the distance. It was the perfect place for the old sailor to be, and he admitted to himself that he couldn't have been in better company than with her. Kinder sat on the long grass spreading out her skirts to get comfortable while Bale situated himself on the ground facing Albertous's grave. While Kinder arranged the small picnic on a pair of kerchiefs, Bale took a breath and began.

"Well Albertous. Here I am to tell you all the places I've been, and things I've seen..."

 **The End**

 _ **AN : I'd like to thank anyone who's taken the time to read my story, as I'm almost sad that I had to end it in favor of other writing projects. If you've at all enjoyed or hated it, please tell me, put up reviews, tell your friends. I thoroughly enjoyed writing about Bale's exploits, and in the future may do so again. Thanks again! :D**_


End file.
